R: Jihi no Tenshi
by Raven Ehtar
Summary: When Misa finds a bloodied man who bears a strange resemblance to L, she's ends up questioning at lot of what she used to believe, with bloody results. Rated for trauma, gore, and sexual situations. BB/BB!Misa.
1. Part I

_**A/N:**__ Alright! This is another request set to me, (which is why there's an 'R' in the title), and which has, predictably, taken forever for me to get around to writing. A little less predictably is how __long__ this piece has become. Seriously, I was trying to write a one-shot, which as I wrote turned into a long one-shot, then into the longest one-shot ever… then into a reluctant two parter… and now I think it's going to become a three part story by the time it's finished. I really didn't mean for it to do that, it just… got away from me. :'(_

_Anyway, this was requested by ~Mysteriousgirl991 from deviantART, and she wanted a BB and BB!Misa piece. She's done a few BB!Misa cosplays on her dA account, and I recommend a look, they are deliciously creepy. Enjoy, everyone!_

_**Music:**__  
><em>City _by Hollywood Undead  
><em>Dead is the New Alive _by Emilie Autumn_

_**Warning:**__ Rated 'M' for future disturbing imagery, psychological trauma, gore and sexual situations; read with caution. True name reveals are a possibility._

_**Disclaimer: **__Death Note__ and related characters © Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. __Death Note: Another Note__ and related characters © NISIOISIN._

…

Jihi no Tenshi

Part I

Raven Ehtar

…

Misa Amane was a star. A model loved for her sweet face, her adorable body and her natural sense of performance. From modeling it was a natural progression to acting, appearing in more than a few commercials aired all across Japan. Whatever she advertised increased its sales by a visible margin. She became a sought after commodity, with many suitors after her contract. Advertisements were leading to even bigger roles; she was now signed for a starring role in one movie, with prospects for more if it did well in the box office. She was developing her own clothing line, and there was talk, somewhere, about a television program. In the world of pop idols, where rising stars were apt to fall again before they reached their peak, Misa Amane had a good chance of having staying power, a quality worth even more than her million yen smile.

This all used to be important to her. When her career was just starting off she had worried and fretted over such things: getting the best deals, the most exposure, of stamping out her rivals and making herself not only visible but beloved of the public. But that had been before she had been gifted with the death note, that instrument of the gods that allowed even humans such as herself to strike down the evil and the corrupt. It had been before she had felt that power of righteousness and sought out her personal god, Kira, Light Yagami, and become _his_ beloved angel of death. Together they, the god Kira and his faithful angel, worked to make the world a better and brighter place by weeding out the unworthy so only the pure and innocent remained. The world would be reshaped to their vision, a place where anyone could walk the streets without fear, under the sure protection of their watchful eyes and ready hands.

What was popularity, or money, or the sale of the newest model car or flavor of soft drink when compared to the salvation of mankind?

Still, she was glad of her connections, as they had helped her on the road to finding Kira, and her burgeoning skills as an actress had stood her in good stead just recently, in fooling the detective L. How anyone could possibly see Kira as anything but a savior was beyond her, but one, a very intelligent and determined one, only saw the dark side of what Kira did. He saw only the killing, and not the great amount of good that was coming from it. L was choosing to not see the deaths as necessary to the good work they were doing. Really, they were on the same side, both working to make the world a better place, but L chose to defend the lives of people who only used them to cause harm. He had pitted himself quite firmly against Kira, against Light and Misa. As an enemy of Kira, he was an enemy of justice, and therefore had to be removed.

The game of cat and mouse that had sprung up between L and Light, and eventually Misa as well, left her dizzy from time to time. She was aware that she wasn't as clever as either of the other two, but that didn't mean she was helpless. After all, when the three of them had all been working together to capture the Kira of the Yotsuba company – a false, shallow, and utterly base human being, unworthy of the title Kira – hadn't she, through her own intuition and acting skills practically _given_ them Kyosuke Higuchi? Yes, that had been her, while everyone else had still been too busy chasing their own tails to do anything useful. While doing so she had fooled not only L, supposedly the greatest detective ever, but Light as well, who at the time had no memory that either of them were Kira. Maybe she wasn't quite as smart as they were, but she was still a player to be reckoned with in this game.

And now, finally, she was free. With the capture of the Yotsuba Kira and his notebook with the fake rules, the suspicion of her being the second Kira had been lifted, along with those on Light. No longer was she being constantly monitored, either by cameras – she just knew they were recording her to watch her again later, the perverts – or by L himself, with his creepy, gaping eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever she was allowed to walk around independently, without having to worry about her every eyebrow twitch. She would have liked to have spent it with Light. Now that they had privacy, she wanted to use it, but he was still stuck at the Investigation's headquarters, playing his role as L's partner.

This left her at a bit of a loose end, with nothing better to do then go through the motions of being the rising pop idol, Misa-Misa. But it was more than just giving her with something to do while Light was taking care of L; it would have looked odd if Misa-Misa suddenly dropped her career for no reason. Just because the suspicions had been officially dropped didn't mean that she was completely free and clear yet. She wouldn't put it past that nosey L to still be looking in on her from time to time.

So she was here, meeting with some of the head sleaze-balls of Ichigo Television, one of Sakura TV's most aggressive rivals. If anything, they were even less principled than Sakura, but they also lacked whatever sophistication their rivals had. Normally, Misa wouldn't even give Ichigo a second glance, but it helped sometimes to stir up some competition. It was playing the field on a corporate level.

"Yes, Takagawa," she said to the final executive, intentionally dropping off the formal _'san'_ and edging out of the boardroom door. "I'll keep what you and your associates have said in mind as I consider all my offers."

Takagawa Ryouga, a middle-aged balding man of average height, bowed deeply to her. "Thank you, Misa-Misa," he said. "We greatly appreciate your consideration of out poor station to make your television series debut. I think you would be very happy here." It might have been her imagination, but as he straightened back up, she could swear that his eyes trailed over her legs, from the tops of her shoes to the hem of her skirt which brushed across the tops of her thighs.

Calling on those acting skills, Misa didn't allow her disgust or the fact that she had even noticed, show with a brilliant smile. "I'm sure I would," she said, and turned away, automatically putting a little twist to her hips as she did so. "Goodbye, Takagawa-_kun_!"

A returning 'goodbye' came from behind her; she did her best to ignore the feeling of the man's eyes lingering on her as she walked away. A two hour meeting with – for the majority – men old enough to be her father and all of them sucking up to her and looking at her like Takagawa… she needed a shower. As soon as she got to her apartment, that's what she would be doing.

Misa Amane walked through the labyrinth of hallways, offices and cubicles that made up this floor of the station, largely ignored by everyone she passed. She was a star, true, but despite what that boardroom full of old men would have her believe, the sky was full of them, and a television station was really an observation station. They were used to seeing stars here.

The young blonde found her way to the elevators and against all probability got one to herself. Now, if anyone had shared the elevator with the girl as it descended to the ground floor they would have observed something strange. They would have heard this young lady speak, so lowly it was barely above a whisper, to thin air. Though had they been looking at her as well they might have doubted their ears. Nothing in her appearance suggested it had been she who spoke. Her eyes were straight forward and unfocused and her lips hadn't seemed to move at all. But if it had been she who spoke, then she would have said, "Ryuk. Do you remember the way we came in?"

It was odd to ask empty air a question as though it could respond, and as a hypothetical observer might expect, there was none. However, the girl did address the air again, still speaking softly, hardly moving her lips, as though afraid there really was someone watching. "Could you check out in front of the building, see if there are a lot of people? I want to avoid any hassle."

No one would have heard any sort of reply, but to Misa's ears came a sound like the beating of huge wings. For several floors the girl remained silent. At one she gained another passenger in the form of a young aide, overburdened with boxes, who got off again after only one floor.

When she reached the ground floor and the elevator doors slid open, a death god was waiting for her just on the other side, staring down at her with bulging yellow eyes. Misa barely glanced at the black, towering figure and walked out into the lobby, so close to the apparition that one of her arms passed right through it. The god, a _shinigami_, followed a pace behind her. "The area in front of the building is more crowded now than when we first arrived," the _shinigami_ said. "And there are a few humans out there with cameras." It would have been hard to tell what the _shinigami_ felt based off of its expression, as its face was fixed in a permanent, leering grin, but the tone of voice it used suggested it thought little of what humans chose to do.

"Mmm…" The lobby was more crowded than when they had first arrived as well, people busily shuttling from place to place, chattering as they did. Misa walked from the elevators to the wall where a large map of the building was posted for visitors, virtually ignored and pretended to study it carefully. Any media people that happened to be around probably had nothing to do with her specifically, but they might take an opportunity if they spotted her. She was tired, and model or not, she didn't want to deal with it just now, she wanted to go home and have her hot shower. Focusing on the map, Misa found and then memorized a path to a back way out of the building. It would lead to the rear parking lot; from there she could call a cab on her cell. With the _shinigami_ trailing after her, Misa headed for the back of the building.

She realized she must have made a wrong turn as soon as she opened the door to the outside. Instead of opening to the back lot, it led to the narrow alleyway between the station and the building next to it. Misa stepped out to look up and down the passage. In one direction she could see light and the main street. She could also see plenty of people up that direction and, yes, some of them held cameras. Down the other way it was darker, leading away from the street and a few large dumpsters narrowing the way and the alley branching as the station building came to an end. Neither way looked particularly inviting, but it would be easier to find her way to the lot from the outside when there was only one path to get there. A young girl traversing an alley wasn't the safest of options, but it was broad daylight and she had Ryuk with her. Misa wasn't worried; she walked down the dimmer branch of the alley.

As it turned out, the path to the lot wasn't as direct as she had imagined. What she had assumed was the final outside corner of the station turned out to just be an irregularity of the outside wall. The station wasn't a perfect square, so when she turned the corner she was faced with a brick wall only a few yards away and another turning. Still, she reasoned, as long as she kept the station at one hand she would eventually come to the rear wall and find the lot she wanted.

That also turned out to be false as she progressed, her pathway branching, turning or becoming crossed with unexpected walls. Whether these were connections to other buildings or deliberate blockages she couldn't tell, and they confused her sense of direction. She lost track of which walls were the station and which were other buildings. With the odd shape of the station, it was much easier to do than she would have thought. Coming to dead ends and retracing her steps, only to be faced with more dead ends, Misa was quickly turned around in the unexpected maze.

It took about twenty minutes of determined walking, and a little help from Ryuk, before Misa found her way to the open air and the parking lot.

On her way towards the light, she tripped over a body hidden in a shadow.

Misa stumbled, grazed her hand along the rough wall as she caught herself. Looking back into the darkness, she searched for what had caught her foot. It was difficult to see in the shadow cast by the buildings, but she could just make out a lean hand and arm, clothed in a torn and dirty sleeve.

She didn't scream. Misa-Misa, pop idol and advertisement darling might have screamed, but she was also Kira, and knew death and its faces. A body alone didn't frighten her, though she did cast a quick look around for any potential causes of why there _was_ a body. The alley seemed empty, but that didn't mean there was no one there.

Ryuk, the grinning, crow feathered shadow at her side, leaned over her shoulder to look at the arm. "Well, well," he said. "What do we have here?"

"I'm not sure," Misa replied, casting her eyes from the wide open lot to the narrow bottleneck of the alley. "Ryuk, keep a lookout, warn me if anyone comes close, okay?"

The _shinigami_ grunted as Misa crouched down, following the arm to the rest of the body it was attached to. Here was another one of the ever present dumpsters that populated the alley, the arm came from beneath it, and whomever it was attached to was hidden underneath. Either someone else had shoved him underneath or he had crawled under himself. The more she saw of first the arm, then a shoulder and part of a torso, the more certain she became of foul play. The shirt was dirty and torn, but it wasn't the long, set-in wear of a vagrant. This was fresh damage. It was also fresh blood that spattered the shoulder, bright red as blossoms on the torn white shirt.

"What're you doing?" The _shinigami_ sounded more curious than impatient.

She called back without turning her head. "Checking to see if he's alright." She was on her knees beside the supine form, attempting to pull it out while at the same time wriggling herself into the small space left between the dumpster and the body. It was difficult, and dirty, but now she could make out that it was a man, of short and slight frame, wearing his dirty white long-sleeved shirt and baggy blue jeans.

"Why?" When Ryuk didn't immediately receive an answer, he continued. "There are plenty of humans in the world who suffer all their lives. Why help this one?"

"Because," the girl said, frustrated, "we should take care of the innocent as well as punish the guilty; it's the way Kira should behave." She pawed at the abused white shirt, tugging the man closer to her, wondering where the blood had come from. All she could see were spatters but no wounds.

He was heavier than he looked, the dead weight and dragging him across concrete making his slight frame weigh twice as much as it looked. He came closer by a couple of inches, and a small rip at his shoulder seam opened wide, exposing a white shoulder. He was so pale Misa wondered if he really was dead.

The _shinigami_, while keeping the watch imposed on him by the girl, pursued the argument. "This human might be one of those guilty you mean to kill. Besides," he added with a rustling, clinking shift. "He's probably already dead."

"He's not dead," Misa said after a pause. "I can see him breathing." It was a strain, but she could just make out the steady rising and falling of the man's chest. If she listened close, she could hear it as well. "And you shouldn't judge a person just based on appearances, Ryuk."

Misa gave another mighty tug, and succeeded in pulling the unconscious man another few inches. His head lolled slightly before flopping back away from her, leaving only the right side of his face visible to her. One source of trauma became obvious then, his right eye was surrounded by a deep purple bruise, and it looked like his lip was split. His hair, now that she could see it, was black, cropped haphazardly, as though he'd cut it himself, and an absolute mess. As she reached out, straining to fit her shoulder under the edge of the metal dumpster and turn the man's face towards her, some of the pieces of his appearance began clicking together. Thin, short, white shirt, baggy jeans, and a head of thick, messy black locks…

"There's no reason for a _shinigami_ to learn a human's character," Ryuk was saying, half to himself. "We hardly interact with you, it's hardly worth the effort-" The _shinigami_ cut off at the sound of Misa's gasp and turned back around to her. "What's wrong?" He tilted his head at her, his silver earring swinging and sparkling in the light.

The girl was now out from under the dumpster, sitting back on her heels and leaning away from the man while staring at him with wide, horrified eyes, one hand clamped tightly over her mouth as though to hold back a scream. She stared as though transfixed, wanting to back away but unable to tear herself away from what lay before her. It took another, more urgent prompt from the _shinigami_ to break the spell. Swallowing hard, she stammered out, "I- It's him! Ryuzaki!"

For a moment they remained, frozen and staring at each other in mutual astonishment with the unconscious man, Ryuzaki, between them.

Misa made a sudden, mad scramble for her purse. While she dug through the bag, tossing aside the miscellaneous junk that had migrated into it, Ryuk ducked down to look at the human that Misa had named as Ryuzaki.

The pop idol found what it was she was looking for, a cell phone weighted down with a dozen straps and charms and flipped up the screen. She barely saw the alert telling her she had missed calls before frantically dialing in the number she had memorized not so long ago. It rang four times before being picked up and Light's voice, heavy and laced with irritation, answered. "Misa, what is it? You know you're not meant to call me while I'm at headquarters…"

"I know, Light," Misa burbled at him. "But this is really important! It's Ryuzaki-"

There was a noise of surprise from the _shinigami_ as Misa spoke. "Hey. Misa," he said, turning back to her, his permanent grin a little smaller than its usual frozen rictus.

Misa ignored him, but Light took the slight pause as an invitation. "What about Ryuzaki?"

"I don't know how, Light, but he's-" she was going to say, 'He's here, and he's hurt. He could have been killed, he's alone and I have a page of my notebook with me. If he dies like this, here, then who could say that it was the work of Kira?' She was going to say that, and then delight in Light's pleasure of such a perfect opportunity landing at their feet, and of her readiness and preparedness to pick it up at once. Until she heard a familiar voice in the background on Light's end of the phone, a voice that drawled, practically slumped as much as the person whom it belonged to.

"What's this, Light? Taking personal phone calls? I thought I made my feelings on cellular phones in this building perfectly clear."

A tiny sigh and a forced chuckle from Light as Misa's jaw slowly dropped open, her eyes flicking over to the body under the dumpster. The body of a man she could clearly hear over the phone.

"Sorry, Ryuzaki. You know how clingy girlfriends can be…"

"Actually, no," said the impossible voice. "Nevertheless, I would appreciate it – very much if you could terminate the call?"

The voices continued back and forth, but Misa lost the meaning of them as she stared slack jawed at the form, and at Ryuk, bent over it and half embedded in the dumpster itself rather than attempting to wedge himself underneath. He pointed a long, talon-like finger towards the man's face, still half hidden from Misa. "It's not L," he said simply.

_Not L?_ Misa thought dully. _Then who could it be? He looks just like Ryuzaki._

Light's voice, sounding even more frustrated than before, called her back. "Sorry, Misa, but I have to hang up. What was it you wanted to say about Ryuzaki, can it wait?"

Misa stared at the unconscious man, trying to think. _He looks like Ryuzaki, but Ryuzaki is with Light. Why does he look like Ryuzaki…? He must be important somehow…_ She looked at Ryuk, but there was no help there, he only stared back at her with his lantern gaze. _I won't tell Light yet,_ she decided._ He has enough to concentrate on right now, and it might be nothing. And if it __**is**__ something, he'll be so proud when he sees I've handled it all on my own!_

"No, it's nothing," she said aloud, smiling into the phone. "I'll talk to you later, Light!" She hung up before he could insist on knowing why she had called and turned her attention back to the man wearing L's clothes. If he wasn't L, but looked so much like him, it had to be deliberate. No one could look so much like someone else by accident. If he was trying to look like L, he knew L and had seen him, which made him important. She needed to know who he was, and what his connection was to L and the rest of them.

It took some heavy pulling to get him out from under the dumpster, and by the time he was finally free Misa was craving that shower. However, all thoughts of hot water and floral soaps were pushed away the moment she saw the half of his face that had been hidden until then. She gasped and drew away, and even Ryuk, normally unmoved by such trivial things as human suffering, save to laugh at it, gave a surprised "Whoa."

The entire left side of his face, from hairline to the collar of his shirt, was a map of red twisted flesh, uneven, shiny and ridged. For a moment Misa was sure that the skin had been peeled away and what she was looking at was raw meat for half the man's face. She wasn't sure what it was that made her realize that it wasn't a fresh set of wounds she was staring at, but it did dawn that it was in fact, scar tissue twisting his face. It was disorientating to look at him when he resembled L so much, but with such a severe disfiguration.

It took more than a minute of studying him before Misa realized that she hadn't bothered to check what his name was. Since making her second eye deal with Ryuk she could see everyone's name and lifespan, but she had to see more than half of their faces before the numbers and letters would appear.

_Beyond Birthday_, the red and dancing letters told her.

_Strange name_, she thought, and then shuddered at the face still turned towards her. "What a terrible face," she muttered aloud, wrapping her arms around herself.

"It's not _so_ bad," Ryuk chimed in, looking down at the human. "For what's there," he added. "And what about not judging a person by their appearance?"

"I know," Misa snapped at the _shinigami_. "It just took me by surprise is all…"

The idol, sensitive to such things as appearance, was fascinated as well as repulsed by the dichotomy presented to her. One half of his face was so soft, from the gentle curve of his cheek to the arch of his brow, even his thick eyelashes resting against his cheek. The other half, however, was the very face of the devil. There was no softness or gentleness to the left side. The very flesh seemed to have been melted away like wax, leaving the harsh, uncompromising lines of his bones, covered only with skin that appeared as forgiving as the shell of a beetle. It made Misa feel unexpectedly melancholy. "I wonder if it hurts him?"

"Who knows?" the words barged in on Misa's reverie. She withdrew a hand she hadn't realized had been creeping close to touch his cheek. "What will you do with him?"

A good question. She didn't want to tell Light about this man, this Beyond Birthday, just now, and she felt that she shouldn't let L find out. The hospital was out of the question if she wanted to maintain any sort of control over him. Which left only one real option.

Taking out her cell again, Misa dialed the number of the cheapest cab company she knew, one whose employees would be the most likely to take a little extra cash to _not_ see something.

…

Getting the unconscious Beyond Birthday from the alley to her apartment building proved to be easier than she thought it would be, but getting from the cab into the apartment itself was a little trickier. She thought about trying to sneak him in a back way, but she wasn't even sure there was one, and if there was she wouldn't know how to get from there to the elevators. And there was the problem of how she was supposed to transport a full grown man all by herself. It was hard enough to just drag him along, carrying him was out of the question.

In the end she had the cab pull up to the front door and then fed the doorman a story of an old school friend picking a fight with the wrong person. He really was a very private person, she explained, and didn't want to have the police brought in over something so small as a bruised face, and if he were seen with _her_, especially in this condition… he understood, right?

Indeed he'd understood her predicament, and had promised to remain discreet so long as she was sure her friend would be alright. He even went so far as to help her carry Beyond Birthday along a roundabout route, away from as many curious eyes as possible.

Now. Now she had an unconscious man lying on her couch. A man whose face – the half _not_ the living equivalent of a meat patty – was still swelling and purpling from the beating he had taken. She wondered if she should tie him down, or at least bind his hands and feet. But then, she didn't have anything sturdy enough to work very well in tying up an adult. She would have to rely on guile to keep him complacent, possibly resorting to the threat of police action or even Kira's vengeance if he tried escaping. And if he proved to be a real danger to her or Light, then there was always the notebook.

Leaving Ryuk as an indifferent watchdog over him, Misa gathered up what first aid supplies could be found in her apartment and came back to her patient. When she returned she was weighed down with a bowl of warm water and washcloth to clean his battered face, disinfectant, swabs and some bandages to bind up what wounds she could, an ice pack to take down the swelling in his face, and a bottle of water and some aspirin for him to take when he woke up.

Laying out her supplies, Misa began with the bruising around his eye and mouth, washing away blood and dirt carefully and then applying the disinfectant. It had to sting, but he only flinched a bit. Misa was relieved; she'd rather be finished before he woke up. Next she cleaned his hands, which were quite a bit dirtier than his face had been, soil set into the creases and under his nails. When she got to clean skin she discovered that his knuckles were bloodied as well. Some of it was fresh, but the majority of what she found were old scabs already healing over, and which had been ripped open again. She had assumed that he had gotten into a fistfight and lost, but this suggested he got into them a lot. Was that important?

She cleaned his hands of blood and soil until the water in her bowl ran dark. After getting a fresh bowl, she made a more thorough, delicate job of it, washing until his hands were practically white and his nails dirt free. He had quite slender hands, she realized, what some people would call artistic, which always made her think they meant would be good for playing an instrument or painting a picture. Certainly they looked designed to do those things. Working as gently as she could, Misa applied the disinfectant and wrapped his hands in gauze. Even after that, the man did no more than sigh in his sleep, so Misa set about checking the rest of his body for injuries. It wasn't until Ryuk chuckled lasciviously that she blushed, realizing what she was doing.

Casting a dark look back at the floating _shinigami_, Misa bit her lip and continued. It wasn't as though she were stripping him naked, she reminded herself. She wasn't even going near his pants. She was just taking off his shirt to make sure nothing else was wrong with him. After a minute of struggle, she realized why it was scissors were always employed when removing shirts on those hospital drama shows and found her own pair to do the same.

The scars that covered the left side of his face continued down below the collar of his shirt and became, if anything, more horrifying as it progressed. Where his face was only half covered, after dipping below his collarbone the path of ruined flesh spread so by the time it reached his lower ribs all she could see were scars. His left arm, too, was covered until about a quarter of the way down his forearm. Possibly the worst of it, though, was what she thought were unscarred patches, but on closer examination turned out to be huge graphs, sewn into his skin.

Well, now she had an idea where the scars had come from. She only knew one reason why skin graphs of that size were ever used for anything other than major surgery, and that was for burns. With that in mind, his scars made much more sense. Though the more she examined him, the more damage she found that _wasn't_ the result of burns. Most notably was his right arm and shoulder, which more or less was free of burns, but bore the unmistakable corded lines of healed cuts. Across the front and back of his armpit, the inside and outside of his elbow, and faintly, around the wrist, right where the joint bent, were thin white slashes. When she checked his left side for signs of the same she found them, plus some extra she hadn't expected. Along his inner elbow, the marks every idol learned to recognize early, and every idol who wanted to continue her career learned to avoid. Track marks, the sign of regular use with a hypodermic needle.

Misa sat back on her heels and wondered anew exactly who it was she had brought into her home. She didn't think she was wrong in her original thought that this man, whoever he was, had something to do with L the detective, but now she had even less an idea of what that connection might be. L seemed… well, not exactly straight laced, his mannerisms kind of disqualified him for that term, but he did seem very much on the up and up. This man, from all appearances, seemed to be involved in any number of underworld activities. Which made her wonder what it was he had been doing just outside the Ichigo Television station, and how he had come to be in that condition, all in the middle of the afternoon. The area around the Ichigo station wasn't the best, but neither was it very well known for daylight crimes, even less so since the advent of Kira. So what had happened?

The girl sighed and came up to her knees, taking up the ice pack to put over his swollen face. It wouldn't do a lot of good by this point, but it was something. As she was setting the pack into place over the Beyond Birthday's right eye, the left one suddenly snapped open and swiveled to focus on her.

It was a bright and bloody red.

Misa started to gasp, which turned into a yelp as he came up, swinging wildly and yelling something at the top of his voice.

Misa fell back, the ice pack flying out of her hands and the ice cubes breaking free and skidding across the floor when it landed. She jumped up again as soon as she got her feet underneath her, unsure what Beyond would do next and not wanting to find out while on the floor. However, after his first outburst, he hadn't gotten to his feet or left the couch at all. Instead of rising from his place he was looking around at the apartment and down at his own half nude form with wide, confused and, yes, very red eyes.

They weren't the red of bloodshot eyes, his eyes were red the same way her eyes were a tawny, golden brown. It was the iris that held the tint, which was unsettling enough, but for the eye surrounded by a mass of scarred tissue the effect was downright disturbing.

Finally those eyes refocused on her, making her take a step back at the sheer baleful force of the glare. He said something, something harsh and angry sounding and – the reason she couldn't understand it – English. Misa knew some English, but she wasn't very good at it, and whatever Beyond had said was too fast and garbled for her to interpret. The only thing she did understand was that it was a question. Considering the last place he probably remembered being was in that alley, it was doubtless something along the lines of 'Where am I?'

Misa held up her hands in what she hoped was a universal sign of harmlessness. "I don't understand you," she said slowly and calmly, her heart thudding against her ribs the whole time. "But it's okay, you're safe here. I'm a friend." _For now_, she added to herself.

Ryuk, who had been helping by staying out of the way, hung from the ceiling like a giant, deformed bat and looked Beyond Birthday up and down, chuckles escaping between his pointed teeth. "Lively, isn't he? Rude, too."

Not taking her eyes away from Beyond, who was muttering to himself, Misa spoke out the side of her mouth to the _shinigami_. "You can understand him?"

"Of course," he replied. "I'm a death god, we understand all human languages. Comes with the job." He gave his equivalent of a smirk; it nearly split his head in two.

"Can you tell me what he's saying?"

"Yes."

Misa waited a moment or two for the _shinigami_ to continue before remembering just how different his personality was from that of Rem's, the _shinigami_ she had known first. "You're not going to though, are you?"

"Nope," he replied smugly. "This is much more interesting."

Beyond, meanwhile, had ceased his mutterings and taken to watching Misa closely. The pop idol was quickly coming to the conclusion that she preferred him unconscious, at least then his eyes were closed. They flicked from side to side, as though to reassure himself his surroundings hadn't changed, then settled on the blonde again. His mouth was set in a firm line, obviously not intending to speak again before Misa did.

"It's okay," she said again. "No one is going to hurt you."

Beyond turned his head slightly, bringing one ear closer to Misa while keeping scarlet eyes locked on her. "Thank you for the reassurance," he said in accented but perfectly understandable Japanese. "But where exactly am I?"

Misa didn't try to hide her surprise, though in retrospect she shouldn't have been so startled. It wasn't uncommon for _gaijin_ to learn some of the language before coming to Japan. Though admittedly, his was considerably better than most. "You're in my apartment," she said, giving as little information as possible. "I found you in an alley and brought you here."

"Why?" The question was so abrupt that Misa was left blinking, trying to process it.

"To clean you up," she eventually managed. "You were – are – a little beat up, so I brought you here to take care of you rather than take you to the hospital. Who might ask awkward questions." She calculated that last comment, and was rewarded with a raised eyebrow.

Beyond took a minute to look down at himself again, at his bare chest and ruined, discarded shirt, at his carefully cleaned and bandaged hands, and to feel at his face and by his eye, where she had taped up some gauze over another split in the skin. He ran his fingers through his hair, apparently searching for more damage, and Misa realized that was a place she hadn't even thought to look. He must not have found anything, for his expression never changed as his hands came back down to his lap. "This was very brave of you," he said mildly.

Misa frowned, suddenly on guard. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Bringing a grown man you know nothing about into your home, where you have, so far as I can see, no means to protect yourself? And from the sound of it, you already doubt my trustworthiness. I would say that's pretty brave, girl."

Misa bristled slightly, and then remembered that her overseas reputation was still marginal. "My name isn't 'girl'," she said, keeping control over her voice.

"I didn't think it was," he replied with a small smile, and then winced, tenderly touching the bruised side of his face.

For a second Misa forgot her caution and came close to Beyond, handing him the sealed bottle of water and painkillers. Beyond seemed surprised by what was offered to him and stared at it blankly. "It's medicine," she said by way of explanation. "It'll help dull the pain."

The man snorted, quirking another smile, but took the water and the pills. He swallowed the pills dry, and then drained off more than half of the bottle before stopping for breath. When he finished he looked up at her, and really seemed to be examining her for the first time, from the top of her hair to her stocking feet. It made Misa want to squirm. It was a different kind of discomfort than when Takagawa's eyes had raked his eyes over her. It was a very clinical, appraising look. She doubted whether he even saw her as female or male. "Who are you?" he asked at last, he voice deeper and smoother since his drink. "Where am I?"

Deciding quickly on how honest she would be, she replied, "Takahashi Yukiko is my name. And I've already told you where you are: safe in my apartment." Halfway through telling him her false name, she remembered she should ask for his. It was hard to remember that little point of etiquette when she already knew everyone's names just by looking. "What's your name, person-I-have-rescued?"

He paused, then, "Rue Ryuzaki."

Misa couldn't help the tiny glance over his head, even though she knew it was false name as soon as she heard it. What took a moment to sink in was exactly _what_ name he had given for his alias. 'Ryuzaki', the same name L went by. Misa's pretty eyes narrowed. He looked and dressed like L, and now he used the same name as L; who exactly was he? He could be a relative of L's, she supposed. He looked like him, but there were some differences: the eyes were not as round, more angular, as was his nose, giving him a more assertive profile. He also seemed to be a bit younger, closer to Misa's age, though that was hard to tell with his extensive scars. More than his appearance, though, his choice of name, 'Ryuzaki' confirmed he had significant connections to the detective that was hunting Kira… but did that make him friend or foe? His scars, especially the track marks, suggested he wasn't on the best of terms with L, but they didn't confirm anything…

The man shivered, catching Misa's attention. "Do you have something I could wear?" he asked, his accent slurring one or two of the words slightly. "It's a bit cold in here. And…" he glanced down at himself. "…a little embarrassing, too."

Misa rather doubted it, but considering his appearance decided it might be true. He might be self-conscious about his disfigurement. She nodded and went to her hallway closet, she was fairly certain she had something in there left by a friend that would fit him. As soon as she thought she was out of earshot, she murmured to Ryuk, who was following her. "Watch him for me, Ryuk. Make sure he doesn't try to leave and tell me what he's done while I was gone when I get back."

"Why should I do that?" the _shinigami_ challenged.

The idol gave the death god a sly smile. "If you help me with this, and don't tell Light, I'll bake you an apple pie to try."

Ryuk's eyes widened so much Misa was afraid they would fall out of his head and roll across the floor. He went straight through the wall in his haste to get to the living room and watch over his charge.

It didn't take long to find something that would suit, and she came back with a man's medium sized burgundy zip-up sweatshirt and hood draped over her arm to find Beyond, aka Rue Ryuzaki, exactly where she had left him. Ryuk, taking advantage of the male's inability to either see or hear him, spoke up immediately. "He's not moved at all except to look at the magazines on your table and his hands. He hasn't said anything, either. Now, about this piiiieeee…" Misa walked straight past the apparition, pretending not to see him from Beyond's benefit. "Oh. Right," he mumbled to himself. "Probably not the best time."

Misa handed over the jacket and meant to step back again, but was caught by a lightening quick grab. He gripped her, just shy of hard enough to be painful, and jerked her close, nearly pulling her off her feet completely, so they were amber to garnet eye. Any protest she might have made dried up in her throat under the intensity of that stare. "What do you want?" he snarled in her face, his breath oddly sweet.

"What?" she managed to squeak. "What do I want?"

"Yes," Beyond Birthday growled, not loosening his hold on her by a single ounce. "What do you, Misa Amane, want from me?"

The blonde swallowed hard, starting to realize just in how much trouble she was in. The sheer stupidity of bringing this man here was finally settling in, accentuated by the fact that her notebook, and even the loose pages she had torn out, were all far out of her reach. And unless by some fluke either Light or some other kind-hearted _shinigami_ wrote his name down, she doubted he was about to keel over from a heart attack any time soon.

"Amane?" she tried to sound genuinely confused, knew she was failing. "My name is Yukiko, Takahashi Yukiko, I told you! I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yes, you do, Ms. Amane," he replied more calmly, still not releasing her. "Please don't insult my intelligence, or your own by continuing this charade. I know you are Misa Amane, popularly known as Misa-Misa, the rising pop idol. I happen to have a good portion of your career memorized, in fact." He let Misa back away from him a little, but still didn't let go. "But that's public knowledge, available to anyone. What I know that _isn't_ publicly accessible is that you, until recently, were suspected of being involved with Kira, or what the investigation team were calling 'the second Kira' since they believed there to be more than one. At least, such was the case before the arrest of Kyosuke Higuchi, who proved to be Kira. Or so it seems." He smirked at her. The effect it had on his face wasn't pleasant. "And you, my dear, know or at least suspect that my name isn't Rue Ryuzaki. Your face is a little too open when you're surprised; you'll have to work on that before any new film deals come your way. My guess is that you have heard that name recently, attached to someone else, also as an alias. Perhaps someone who looks like me…?"

"How, how do you know all of this?" she demanded, then kicked herself for having just confirmed everything he said as his smile widened.

"I have some sources for the bulk of it. For the rest I used inferences and logical progression. For example: Is it logical that model and budding actress Misa-Misa should, upon finding an unconscious and bloodied man in an alley, bring him into her home and bandage him up herself rather than call an ambulance, or even the police? Is it logical that she should give a false name, or attempt to conceal the location of her apartment? Not until you add the element of Kira, and then it resolves itself." He paused, considering. Misa remained silent, fascinated.

"Misa Amane," he continued at last, "is connected closely to Kira, and knows of, more likely has met the infamous detective L during his investigation. She comes across a vagrant that looks like him, and who later uses his same alias. She must determine whether or not he is a threat to Kira, and quickly. Under these circumstances, your behavior and my presence are quite logical, wouldn't you agree?"

Misa's head was swimming a little bit. Where had he gotten all that information? There was no way he could have gotten all of that off of inferences. "And if it does?" she found herself saying. "If it's true and I'm involved with Kira, or _am_ Kira, then you're in even more danger than I am. What if I decided to kill you? Would you even know how to stop me?"

She thought she saw his mouth twitch, the beginnings of another smile, but it evaporated quickly. He shrugged one shoulder, and let go of her so abruptly she stumbled. She hadn't even realized she had been pulling against him. "There's no guarantee that I would even try to stop you. I have no fear of death beyond the purely visceral. And I believe I would only be in danger from Kira's wrath if I were a threat to him, or if I were a criminal whose identity became known to him."

"You're saying that you're not a threat to Kira?" Misa rubbed at her arm, sure Beyond's fingers had left marks behind. Those would be hard to explain on set.

Beyond, apparently having meant it when he said he was cold, shrugged into the hoodie. It almost fit, though it was a little oversized for him. "I'm saying that, while I _could_ be problematic to the man – or woman – known as Kira, I could also be quite useful to his cause."

"Useful? You want to help Kira?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Misa settled her weight into one hip and looked at Beyond with fresh interest. Out of all the possible reasons for someone like him to appear, an alliance wasn't one of the ones that had occurred to her. "You believe in Kira's vision of justice, that he is working to create a perfect world?"

The man shifted. "My first and foremost reason for seeking him out is because I know he's working against L. To that end I would offer my services, to be used as Kira saw fit. Once L was dealt with, then if he still has need of me, I won't refuse him."

Something he said caught Misa's attention, and made her remember her caution a little bit. "Your services. What might those be?"

Now Beyond sat up entirely, swinging his feet to the floor and facing her directly. His posture was terrible, his shoulders and spine rounded forward in a stoop, his head thrust forward, all very much like the detective he resembled. But bad posture or not, sitting up he lost all appearance of weakness. It was easier to remember that the scars that covered him were all old damage, and they would not hinder him in any way. Underneath the twisted skin there were still the fine muscles of a young man. Misa took a step back, watching him carefully for any sudden moves.

He made no further movement after sitting up, but he did stare at her, his garnet eyes making her pulse quicken so she could feel it throbbing at her throat. "It was a talent I was born with that I would have offered," he said lowly, conspiratorially. "One that I had thought only I had, out of every other human on this planet. Until I met you just now."

Misa found herself blushing again, but she wasn't at all sure why. Maybe it was an odd fear reaction. "Huh?"

"If I were to say, perhaps…" he licked his lips, and it occurred to Misa that he was nervous. Nervous about what? "What would you think, Ms. Amane, if I said that when I looked at you, I saw no numbers? No... red numbers at all?"

She didn't understand at first, and could only stare blankly until Ryuk, whom she forgot was there at all, suddenly burst out laughing, making her jump. Beyond, who heard none of the _shinigami's_ cackles, titled his head in confusion. Misa ignored that and listened to the specter, all the while fighting the instinct to turn her head to look at him. "He possesses the eyes of a _shinigami_! He can see your name as clearly as you can see his."

"But he can't see my lifespan…?" she whispered to herself. She looked up, saw the floating _Beyond Birthday_ above his head, followed closely by the string of numbers that represented his lifespan. _I can see his, which means he doesn't have a notebook. How can he have the eyes without a death note?_

It was one of those obscure rules of the death note that anyone who possessed the eyes would see both the names and lifespans of anyone they met, save any other human who owned a death note. For them only the name would be visible. It was how she had found Light, and known he was Kira, by using that rule to her advantage. But she had traded half her remaining life to gain the vision of a _shinigami_, how could he have the same without owning a notebook?

Beyond was still watching her, awaiting her reply patiently. She cleared her throat. "I would think that… even if you had never heard of me before, you would have known that my name wasn't Takahashi Yukiko."

Something passed over Beyond's face, an expression, but one that was driven by too many emotions to interpret. "Well," he said, sounding distant. "There lies one of Kira's powers, and a most unexpected one. And unfortunately," he leaned back on the sofa, jacket falling open, "it also robs me of one of my more valuable bargaining pieces to offer Kira. If Kira already possesses this… talent, then why should she invest any trust in a stranger offering the same? Much safer to do it herself."

"I'm not Kira," Misa put in quickly, catching the subtle insinuation.

"Of course not," he said, smiling knowingly at her.

She decided to ignore that for now and tried to think. "You said 'one of your bargaining pieces'. What other pieces do you have?"

"Well, for some of my more minor offerings, there's my intelligence and my vast connections to the underworld and its workings. During the course of my own pursuits I've had to cultivate a broad number of contacts outside polite society, but I feel no particular attachment to them. Kira could use them to his own ends or kill them all off, whichever he prefers. Besides my eyes, my most valuable trait is that I know more about L and his operation than anyone else outside of it, and most of the people on the inside of it."

"And how do you know all of that?"

"I won't go into too many details," Beyond Birthday demurred. "But I will say that I have known about him since I was a child. I was brought up to emulate him, I not only know a lot about L, but also about his methods."

"Are the two of you brothers?"

Beyond tossed back his head and laughed aloud, but it was so humorless it was almost mechanical. It set Misa's teeth on edge and she was glad when it was done. "No, we are _not_ brothers. We have no relation to each other save the circumstantial."

"Why do you want to help Kira against him, then?" Misa asked, trying to shake the laugh. "You do know that in that battle, the loser will die. Do you want L dead?"

Beyond grew still for a moment, his eyes becoming unfocused as he looked into some place Misa could not. A hand came up to the left side of his face. He covered one eye and the majority of that entire side, hiding himself and his scars. "You have seen these burns," he said quietly. "They cover nearly my entire body. I was in a hospital for months, contracted two infections and needed many, many graphs to survive it." The hand moved to his chest, where he absentmindedly rubbed at the place between damaged and undamaged skin. He arrested Misa with his gaze. "L did this to me."

Misa recoiled, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

L? It didn't seem possible. He was against Kira, it was true, but she had never truly thought of him as _evil_. To set a man aflame, to subject him to that kind of torture… it was monstrous.

"No wonder you want revenge," she murmured through her fingers.

He only nodded his agreement.

Misa made an abrupt decision. Normally she would balk at what she was about to do, but she had already come so far, and the alternative, letting him roam free, seemed far riskier than what she was about to propose. "Beyond Birthday."

The man's head snapped to attention. He seemed surprised to hear his own name, even though he must have known she knew it.

"I am not Kira," she said. "But I am close to him. I think you could be useful, but I won't take you to him straight away. I can't. Instead I'll watch you, and I'll decide if you're trustworthy or not. If you are, then I'll find a way for you to meet him. Until then, you are not to leave this apartment." Misa took a deep breath and held it. Keeping a man under house arrest was no small thing to attempt, and she had no idea how he might react.

Beyond, far from reacting with any sort of passionate outburst, seemed frozen to the spot. Misa wasn't reassured. She was afraid of what he would do once what she'd said had a chance to sink in. She had no real way of restraining him if he got violent or made a break for it.

However, his response was surprisingly mellow. He only smiled softly and said, "As you wish."

…

At first the new arrangement of keeping a man in her apartment was incredibly awkward. Misa wasn't used to turning around corners in her own home to find a quiet figure, normally huddled up in a crouch, just being there like he belonged. The closest she'd come to a similar situation was when she and Light had been confined together in a set of rooms at the investigation headquarters, and that had almost been like living together in their own place. But then that had been like forced confinement, and it hadn't been _her_ space she was sharing, and Beyond Birthday was patently no Light Yagami.

If she had thought that L was Light's opposite, then B made her acknowledge that there were more extreme opposites out there. At least L, for all of his other eccentricities, _walked_ from place to place. More often than not Beyond's chosen method of locomotion was to scuttle about on all fours like a dog or an overgrown toddler still not used to only having two points of contact with the floor. It turned Misa's stomach thinking how dirty his hands must become, but to her relief he was meticulous about his hygiene, washing his hands quite often. It was even more of a relief to know that after she saw him eat for the first time, as he used his fingers for practically everything.

Still, after the first few issues of adjustment, Misa gradually became used to Beyond Birthday's presence. He would read or watch television for portions of the day like a normal person, so that helped, and would occasionally use the computer – under the secret watch of Ryuk, of course. Beyond, or 'B' which he said he preferred, seemed to be perfectly at home from the start , needing none of the time Misa did to acclimate. Nor did he seem particularly troubled over his confinement. If she hadn't known otherwise, she would have said that he was a normal houseguest visiting from out of town, judging purely by his behavior. He even offered to cook once or twice, but she wasn't so trusting as to allow him to handle what she was about to eat. If his tastes in food ran the same way as his coffee, she would just keel over from a sugar overdose even if he didn't mean to poison her. And she was still wary whenever she came home, sending Ryuk in first to make sure he wasn't lying in wait for her on the other side of the door. Every time the _shinigami_ would come back out with a negative report and a not-so-subtle hint about the promised but unseen apple pie.

While Misa had promised to watch him and judge on his intentions, though, with him restricted to her apartment there was nothing for her to judge. He spent the days lounging and the nights – she hoped – sleeping. She could glean nothing from that, and B seemed in no hurry at all to prove himself. It was frustrating. Worse still, Light _was_ getting impatient to make some move on L. The investigation team had caught Kyosuke Higuchi, so they held his notebook and Rem, her original _shinigami_. Apparently L had gotten the notion to try out the notebook on someone on death row in order to test it, which would prove disastrous to Light and Misa, but had just barely been outvoted by his team. They were safe for now, but Light was getting increasingly bad tempered. He wanted her to come to the headquarters, but she didn't want to leave B alone for that long. She only left to shop for food at a convenience store at the corner, seeing Light would take hours. When she did return to headquarters she intended to have either a new ally or news of a neutralized threat with her.

When she started talking with B about Light, it was out of her own impotent frustrations and after B had been living with her for nearly a week. She didn't think about it, she just started verbalizing her exasperation to whomever would listen, which happened to be B. By the time she thought of some of the reasons why she should keep her mouth shut, it was too late. She stalled out, realizing her blunder, but B had only said, "I take it this Light person is Kira?"

Flushing all the way to her hair, Misa nodded.

"It sounds as though you love him very much," he said softly.

"Yes," Misa had whispered. That someone could perceive her love for Light, even when she was frustrated and venting over him, made her feel surprisingly good.

"Tell me about him," B had invited her. "The way you see him."

So she had. She told him how they had met, without telling him how exactly she had tracked Light down, and how they both planned to make the world a better place with their powers as Kira. She told him how smart and handsome Light was, how he had always been top ranked at his school, and how now he was outsmarting even L. She spoke long and lovingly of how good and kind Light Yagami was, working so hard to stamp out the evil in the world so only the good would be left, making the world pure, where none need fear the dark ever again. She even told him about how she had begged Light to let her help him, even if all he did was use her and cast her aside, and how he had taken her on. It was a day she would always remember, because that was the day she became Light's girlfriend and his right hand in the mission to make a better world.

B listened with the attentive ear of a friend, and the few questions he put to her were well placed and innocuous. If he were probing for more sensitive information about Kira, then Misa couldn't detect it, and she carefully edited out anything that might come back to bite her later.

In a strange way, B _was_ becoming a kind of friend. She fought against it, reminding herself that he was a potential threat to her and to Light, even more now than before. He had too much information, and if he knew so much about L, he probably knew how to contact him as well. If he turned out to be an enemy, it would go badly for Kira.

She used every trick she could think of to keep herself from befriending him, even trying to make herself feel nauseated over his scars. Even that failed. She hardly noticed the scars anymore; they were just a part of who B was. In a life full of things like _shinigamis_ and notebooks of death, Beyond only remained the strangest thing for a certain amount of time before becoming almost background.

So perhaps that's why it took her some time to notice the tenor of some of his questions, and what they were insinuating. They started out just as the kinds of questions someone would ask about their new friend's significant other: What was he like, what was his family like, what sort of activities he enjoyed and so on. All of which Misa was happy and more than happy to answer. Then he began asking about how Light chose who was guilty or innocent, if he planned to set forth laws of his own or continue to rely on those already in place, how he intended to enforce them if death wasn't called for, if he had ever thought of providing for families whole sole provider also happened to be criminal and had met Kira's justice…

The more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable Misa became. Normally she would have shrugged the questions off and trusted that Light would know best, but with B in her apartment, she couldn't do that. Whenever she thought she was beginning to move past the uncomfortable considerations that B's questions stirred up, he would begin a new line, innocent to begin with, but eventually coming to the point of almost-accusations. It set Misa to thinking longer and harder over things than she ever had on her own. What were the families of the executed doing to survive? Some may be relieved to have that criminal element removed, but surely not all of them. And what if Light and Misa were inadvertently creating more criminals? People who wouldn't have gone to the bad ordinarily, but were given no choice when they were faced with the harsh realities of life? And future laws, the continuation of Kira's legacy after they had died of old age? Misa had never heard Light mention it.

As for how he chose who was guilty and who was innocent, well, that at least was clear-cut. Light only judged those who had been judged already and were rotting in prison, or those who escaped that kind of justice but were so obviously guilty that even a child could see the world was better off without them.

"Ah, but how can Kira be so sure of the guilt of a person, even after a court has pronounced it so?" Beyond argued amiably one gray morning over the breakfast table. It was a reflection of just how much Beyond had become of her routine that they now ate at least one meal of the day together, more often two. Misa tried not to think of what else it might have been a reflection of as she worked her way through her portions of fish, rice and _natt__ō_.

B spread a generous helping of strawberry jam on his toast, preferring to add some Western items to his morning meal, holding the knife in the same particular way she had observed L held his utensils. "One hears such disturbing things about false persecution, innocent lives forever marred by their time spent in prison, all started by misunderstandings or stupid juries manipulated by prosecutors. What of them?"

"I'm sure Li- Kira has considered that," Misa said, flustered. "I know he has…" she trailed off, sensing how weak her argument was.

"How is that?" The knife clinked back into the jam jar. "Has he scoured every inmate's personal file, read between the lines, and examined the evidence himself so he knows beyond doubt whether or not they are guilty? Even then, how can he be sure, without actually being a God and able to peer into the hearts of men? And then there's the discrepancies of what qualifies as an arrestable offence between countries."

The girl hesitated, food halfway to her mouth. "What do you mean?"

"Well," B spoke around a mouthful of toast and jam. "Suppose we use homosexuality as an example? In most countries the gay community has little to fear from the local law enforcement for simply being as they are. But in some places it's punishable by life in prison or death, even now. Will Kira execute those prisoners, too? If he does, but then turns a blind eye to people in other countries who _haven't_ been arrested, but who are committing the same 'crimes', how is that level handed? How will that be addressed in the future? By applying only the most stringent of laws from each country to all?"

Misa put down her eating utensils. The food was beginning to taste quite sour to her. "I don't know how Kira plans to handle these things," she said with as much coolness as she could muster. "I'm sure he's put some thought into them, but we've not had very much time to talk about them together."

"Very well, then. Something that is grounded in the present. Tell me what you think of Kira's handling of the FBI agents that were investigating the case not long ago."

An angry flush rose to Misa's cheeks, and whatever was left of her appetite evaporated instantly. She knew what Beyond was driving at, of course. It was almost impossible not to see exactly what it was he was suggesting. Slapping her hands into the table hard enough to make the dishes dance, she stood up and glared down at the scarred _gaijin_. "What is this?" she demanded hotly. "I thought you were for Kira, and wanted to become his ally? So why are you making him sound so awful?"

B stared up at her blankly, cheeks bulging with toast and red eyes wide. "Am I? I haven't accused him of anything he hasn't done, have I?"

"No, but-"

"I am merely analyzing his motives, Misa. What I've told you before about wishing only to help him to bring down L, that is still true. If I question him it's to ascertain whether or not I will stay after that goal's completion." He tilted his head. "Haven't you ever questioned his motives, his methods?"

Misa felt caught, by the garnet eyes pinning her in place, by the sudden feeling of stupidity and naiveté, and by the ever-present gaze of Ryuk, hovering near the ceiling in one corner, always watching. She knew Ryuk wasn't likely to repeat anything to Light, but she was still highly aware of him, as though he were a piece of Light Yagami sitting in silent accusation of whatever she might say. If she admitted that she hadn't thought about it, would she seem unutterably juvenile? But if she followed such an admission with a promise to do so in the future, would she seem disloyal, or a traitor to Ryuk?

But then, if she remained completely loyal, and answered as though Light were there, would she ever learn anything about Beyond?

"No," she said, deciding. "But I think I will be, now."

And for the next couple of days, she did.

…

_**A/N2:**__ So this is the first time I've really written Misa. You would think, after writing so many __Death Note__ fics (30+) that I would have gotten around to her sooner, but the truth is, she's never held that much interest for me. I'm not sure why, it's just always been that way. So when I got a request to write her, the first response was to groan. 'Misa?' I thought to myself. 'Seriously? Writing Light wasn't bad enough, now I have to do Misa? And pairing her off with my darling of darkness, Beyond? (sigh) Fine, it's a challenge, I guess, and those are always good…' But to my surprise, as I got further and further into this, the more I liked writing Misa as a bit of a change from the usual characters I write while remaining within the __Death Note__ 'verse. And to my slight horror, I grew to like having Beyond and Misa interacting, as well. It's an odd match up, but I found a lot, personally, that I liked with it, and may have to do more in future. …my poor brain._

_Jihi no Tenshi:__ Title of the piece, I suppose I should translate it, eh? It's Japanese for 'angel of mercy'. I had trouble thinking up a title for this piece, but eventually I came up with the idea of Misa acting as an attendant angel to Light, and then to Beyond. Light is acting as a shinigami, God of Death, so to him she would be a shino tenshi (angel of death) but for Beyond… yeah, you'll see later on. However, I didn't like the title 'Angel of Mercy' for some reason, so translated it to Japanese. You know. Because it's more foreign-y. 8D_

_Ichigo Television:__ 'Ichigo' is Japanese for 'strawberry', which I thought would be a cute name for a rival of Sakura TV, since 'sakura' means 'cherry'. …I'm easily entertained, I can't help it._

_Natt__ō__:_Nattō_ is a dish made from fermented soybeans that's most popular as a breakfast food. _

_Traditional Japanese Meal:__ Obviously the phrase 'traditional Japanese meal' doesn't need explaining, but why did I have one show up in the story at all? Well, while doing random research on the interwebs, I found several sources that say traditional meals in Japan are still fairly common, occurring in about 50% of homes, depending on the specific demographic being looked at. While Misa doesn't scream 'tradition', there's nothing that says that she isn't about some things, and I thought it would work well as a device to show some of the differences between Misa and Beyond. Culture!_

_Gaijin:_Gaijin_ literally means 'outside person', which translates to 'outsider' or 'alien', and is generally used to describe any and all non-Japanese people. However, it's also considered to be a bit rude to refer to someone as _gaijin_, kind of like if you called someone 'foreigner' to their face in English. Or a broad, general word similar in sentiment to terms like 'gringo' or 'wop'. Apparently a more polite phrasing would be _gaikoku no kata _or _gaikoku jin._ And yes, before anyone asks, I had Misa think of Beyond in the ruder term on purpose. Feel free to speculate on that. ;D_

_**As always, thanks for reading, everyone! With any luck the next part will be up soon!**_


	2. Part II

_**A/N:**__ I'm so far behind on my multi-chapter fics it's not even funny. But it's especially bad when it comes to a request. Gaaah- _

_Anyway. The continuation of the BB / Misa fic requested by ~Mysteriousgirl991. Was meant to be a one-shot, looks like it's going to end up being a three, possibly four-parter. ^^;_

_**Music:**__  
><em>Room of Angel (Silent Hill 4 soundtrack) _by Akira Yamaoka & Mary Elizabeth McGlynn. _

_**Warning:**__ Rated 'M' for future disturbing imagery, psychological trauma, gore and sexual situations; read with caution. True name reveals are a possibility._

_**Disclaimer: **__Death Note__ and related characters © Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. __Death Note: Another Note__ and related characters © NISIOISIN._

…

Jihi no Tenshi

Part II

Raven Ehtar

…

It was two and a half weeks since Misa brought the battered Beyond Birthday to her apartment, and in that time she had managed to stay in or near the apartment to keep tabs on her strange guest. Food she either had delivered or would make very brief excursions to the local shops. As for anything to do with her career, she maneuvered as best she could over the phone, playing three separate agencies at cross purposes to keep them busy and herself free. She wasn't able to avoid Light as easily.

They were both free, a 'false' Kira had been caught in their place, the existence of death notes and the _shinigami_ were known to the investigation team… Light was eager to make the final move to rid themselves of L, the last threat to his reign as God over the new world. Misa's excuses for not coming to see him were wearing thin; his impatience had to be soothed in person. It was hard to be convincing when ordinarily, she would be fighting to be by his side.

When she did go – leaving Ryuk to act as silent watchdog over B – it was with two goals in mind: to delay Light in whatever schemes he had for L, and to extract whatever information she could out of the detective about her red-eyed stray. She was surprised on both counts, by how difficult it was to pacify Light, especially with surveillance still running high within the building, and how easy it was to get the recalcitrant L to talk about anything from his past. Light had told her how closed he was, for the sake of hiding his true identity or giving away any possible weaknesses for enemies to exploit. Misa wasn't interested in anything of the kind for now, but still expected to be balked when she suggested he tell her some stories of any time he had spent in her favorite city: Los Angeles. Over the course of two weeks, Misa had learned that LA was the last place Beyond had had contact with the detective, so was a good starting point for clues.

To her surprise, he spoke fairly freely about the city and his occasional visits to it, citing interesting or historical landmarks and choice statistics or anecdotes. He told her one or two tales of high ranking and wealthy people of the city, omitting only their names as a matter of confidentiality. He told her the statistics on crimes committed in LA in an average year – the numbers appalled her – and began detailing some of the cases he had been directly involved in. The problem, Misa realized, wasn't in getting him to talk, but in getting him to talk about _the right things_.

Try as she might, though, she couldn't think of a way to steer the conversation to Beyond Birthday without tipping her hand, or without letting on that she knew him at all. Whatever else B had told her about his association with L, he hadn't told her how they knew each other. From the burns she assumed enemies, but had they started out that way? For all she knew they might have begun as friends, teacher and student, or even partners.

Stuck for inspiration, and worried about leaving B for so long with or without guarding, Misa was about to make some excuse to leave, when something the detective said, eyes still glued to the wall of monitors streaming line after line of information, caught her attention.

"The L.A.B.B. Murder Cases."

The girl's heart rate abruptly picked up. "L.A.B.B. cases?" she'd said, fighting to keep her voice even. "I don't think I've ever heard of those."

Perhaps feeling the need to focus on anything other than Kira for a while, L had willingly obliged her by launching into that occurrence. And Misa learned quite a lot about Beyond Birthday, LA serial killer, in that short amount of time.

The door of her apartment shut with a bang, louder than she thought it would be, but she didn't care. She kicked off her shoes in a hurry and didn't bother with the house slippers before she stomped her way into the living room. Whatever her downstairs neighbor thought of the unaccustomed racket she didn't know. Her whole face and nape of her neck felt hot with an angry flush she could remember feeling only rarely. She'd been peeved or annoyed often, but not outright angry, really boiling mad as she was now. That took something special to manage.

B wasn't in the living room, but in the small breakfast nook just off the kitchen, squatted carefully in one of the wooden chairs around the table, reading a newspaper held with the tips of his fingers. A mug of coffee sat in front of him, sending up sweet smelling curls of steam. The man looked up as she stormed in, wide eyes curious but not alarmed. Ryuk, hanging invisible behind his head, chuckled at her entrance.

"You!" Misa threw the word like a stone at him before he could speak. "How dare you, you evil, lying bastard! Did you think I wouldn't find out, or were you just hoping to get whatever it is you wanted before then?"

Beyond didn't move, not even when she put her hands on either side of his coffee and leaned forward, bringing her face as close to his as she could. The most she got out of him was a slow, almost tired blink of bloody red eyes and a deep breath. "I take it you have had some time to learn of the time I spent in America?" he said, unperturbed.

His tone, so placid and probably intended to calm her, only made her even more furious. "Yes, I did! I've found out quite a few things about you, Mr. Birthday, which you conveniently left out of conversation, or outright lied about from the beginning! For example, those scars of yours. You said that it was L who did that to you, when in reality you did it to yourself! You set yourself on fire in attempt to kill yourself, make it look like murder. Then you try to tell me that L did it to you? Why, so I would believe that you hated him enough to want him dead, so I would feel sorry for you and not hand you over to Kira or the police? If you wanted to get to L so badly, then why not make a stab at him by yourself?" Misa finally ran out of breath, and stood panting, her overly bright eyes shining in outrage.

After the steamroller of irate accusation finished rolling over him, Beyond's reaction was as understated as his listening had been. He folded the newspaper neatly and set it aside, avoiding Misa's hands, and took a long sip from his coffee. When he looked her in the eye again, Misa had slowed her breathing. The first thing he said wasn't even along the lines of what she was expecting.

"If I had died, then I wouldn't have these scars. I would be a corpse, quietly rotting away to nothing in a forgotten grave. If he hadn't won that game… in a way, he did give me these scars." He touched a disfigured cheek. Fleetingly, Misa wondered if his face could even feel anymore. "But even before that, he had put these on me in a much more direct way… but that is a very long story. Not one suited to your current mood, I think."

"No," Misa grated out through clenched teeth. "No, because that's not the worst thing, is it? You also failed to mention the little detail of brutally murdering three people while you were there, including a little girl. Though I'm not surprised you didn't tell me," she added. "Why would I help a murderer like you? I should pass Kira's judgment on you myself. There's absolutely no justification for killing a human being!"

Something flickered in B's expression, then. Something that made it seem that now his entire focus was on her, where before his attention had wandered. "Are you certain of that?" His voice, too, had a new quality to it which made Misa suddenly wary, remembering who it was she was confronting. "You might want to think that claim through very carefully, Miss Amane. More to the point, you might want to examine yourself through that reasoning, yourself and your wise and correct Kira. If there is no justification for killing, then why is that the only judgment he deals out?"

Misa fell silent. Had she really just condemned herself and Light out of her own mouth? Worse, she couldn't think of any way to refute it. She almost told him that it was the only way Kira _could_ punish the wicked, the death note offered no half measures, but stopped short. Beyond still knew nothing about the death note, and she thought it best to keep it that way. Still, she scrambled for a way to defend hers and Light's actions. "It- It was justice! They had given up their right to live by their own actions, and their deaths prevent any future suffering they might have caused."

"I see." Beyond's eyes glittered, malevolent rubies staring into the back of her mind. "So killing _is_ justifiable, if the motive is noble enough. Pure enough."

Again that feeling of being trapped, unable to look away. "Yes! … no. Maybe."

B ignored her stammering. "You – and Kira – judge one by their actions in the light of their intent. One who kills in order to simply cause suffering and pain is no doubt evil, but one who kills in order to survive, or to ease suffering… that is not so black a motive. Is that right?"

Misa swallowed hard. She was still angry, but most of the heat had left her, leaving a sick, heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Yes. That's right. Are you saying you had _good_ intentions for those people when you killed them, when you mutilated them?"

A full minute passed without a word from B. He just stared at Misa, deep in thought, not letting her gaze go while he considered. Finally he blinked, and leaned back in the chair, which creaked beneath him. He sighed, seeming to deflate. "No. I never had any 'good intentions' for them. As far as they were concerned, Believe Bridesmaid, Quarter Queen and Backyard Bottomslash, I had no intentions whatsoever. I was firmly in the gray area of motives, neither wanting to cause nor ease any of their personal suffering."

"But- the way you killed them- they _must_ have suffered."

B shook his head, soft black bangs falling into his eyes. He turned so the right side of his face was to her, and she could almost believe he was undamaged. "Drugged," he said. "All drugged and insensible before I touched them. The worst they went through was a moment or two of fear, some dizziness, and then nothing."

_A gentle killer_, Misa thought, and then shoved it aside. Feeling not so steady on her feet as the energy imbued by rage left her, she sat heavily in the chair opposite Beyond.

"Why did you desecrate their bodies?"

"Ah. The crux of the matter, where my intentions really lay. I did it to get his attention."

"His?"

"L's. Of course. His attention, his notice, his… _recognition_. The only things that had ever mattered. I wanted him to find and focus solely on me, and I knew that this, making myself one of his cases, would do it. Then, once I had it, I would beat him at his own game. I would win, and L would come second."

The contrast in his demeanor now to what it had been only moments before was startling. B's voice had grown soft and distant in recollection, his face, still half turned away from her, was effectively hidden by his hair. At one point, she thought, it would have looked exactly like L's, but time and small care had made it too long and unkempt. It matched the rest of him in looking thrown away and half-wild. But with such a gentle, almost sad, voice coming from beneath the curtain of black hair, Misa thought he resembled a child, left to fend for himself for too long and just now coming to look for help.

"So those people," she said quietly. "They died just so you could get L's attention? Not because of anything they did, just to make L look in that direction."

"Misa…" B's head came up, his gaze flicking above her head before settling on her face. "I would have thought you, of all people, would understand better than that. You have the same eyes as I do, can't you see what lies right before them? They didn't die then, on those days, on those precise hours because _I _chose they should, for whatever reasons. They died because that was when they were _meant to die_."

Misa looked, fleetingly, at the string of numbers that floated over Beyond Birthday's head, along with his name. They represented his lifespan, how long he was meant to live on this Earth. She could see them, as she could with everyone she met, but while she could see them, she didn't understand them. To her, they just formed a random jumble, with no practical application. Maybe that was why it was so easy to forget that they were there at all, what they meant.

"But you were there, so-"

"-so I was the one who killed them," B cut her off. "But they would have died in any case. I was merely the means to an event that was scheduled to happen. If not by my hand, then," he shrugged, as though expressing the sheer unpredictability of life. "Then death by car crash, or choking on food, or falling down a flight of stairs. Or falling victim to some other killer. Someone who would have found much more entertainment value in their suffering. My way, at least, their deaths were somewhat comfortable, and served some purpose besides feeding the worms."

"How can you say that as though it were a good thing? That a person's only purpose was to further your selfish goals?"

"Not a person's purpose, but that of their deaths." Misa couldn't interpret the look B cast her. "Have you never known someone who's death was completely pointless?"

Unwanted memories rose up, misting Misa's vision with the threat of tears and clogging her ears with a rushing sound. But better that, she knew, than the sound of their voices, those of her family, speaking to her as they had when they lived, or screaming as they must have done the night they were murdered. What reason had there been for them to die, what motive other than someone's sick pleasure? They had died needlessly. Would she have felt better if it had been B to take their lives, if she knew he didn't care for them personally but would use their deaths to some end? No… but she might if she knew they hadn't died in terror and agony.

"Yes," she said, and then cleared her throat when her voice cracked. "Yes, I have. But I don't know if I would agree that adding your own values to it makes it any less pointless."

"Then I propose a small experiment," B said, his mouth twitching into a half smile, stretching the scars on the left side of his face. "Come out with me tonight. We'll walk around downtown; find someone who is close to death. It shouldn't be hard in a city this size. We will observe them and draw our own conclusions."

Alarms went off in Misa's head. While she had come to trust B to a certain extent while they were both in her own little domain, leaving the safety of her apartment to go traipsing about the night streets with him, alone, had the same feel as approaching a lion in its den. Dangerous, very probably stupid. But then, she had never let danger warn her off of anything before. If she had, she wouldn't have B living in her apartment now. Rather than warning her away, the promise of danger made B's offer only more attractive, a kind of dark and inexplicable allure.

She returned B's smile with a small smirk. "Alright, then. You're on, Mr. Birthday."

Near the ceiling, invisible to one human and forgotten by the other, the _shinigami_ Ryuk chuckled delightedly. Finally, things were picking up again. This promised to become much more interesting very quickly.

…

When Beyond said it shouldn't be hard to find someone close to death, Misa had it in her mind that they would be able to walk out the door, turn the corner and find one practically waiting. Well, maybe not _so_ quickly, but within an hour or two of people watching in the busy downtown. But no, they hung around the bars, theaters and nightclubs and found no one closer than a year of the grave. While the city itself was large, those close to death were well spread, and not concentrated in her area. Frustrating as it was to look for someone suitable, Misa was somewhat comforted with that.

The first night the two of them went out, the beautiful young girl and the frighteningly scarred man, they found none that fit their criteria. Though they both made a discovery, of sorts. Misa had suspected, though she had never asked to confirm, that when B saw the lifespans of people, he didn't see just random numbers thrown together. He was somehow able to translate the jumble into the exact time when one was meant to perish. That was confirmed in short order, but in doing so, B learned – and was shocked – that Misa didn't have the same ability. It baffled him why she should be able to see and yet not comprehend. Misa didn't tell him that it probably had something to do with the deal she had made to get them. She would ask Ryuk about it when she could. Being able to say, down to the minute when someone would die on their own could be useful. She would also see if he had any ideas how Beyond got his eyes, when he obviously had made no deal for them. Misa was very interested in how that could have happened.

Three more nights of this went by with no greater luck than the first, each time casting their net in a new area. At first Misa thought it was only to have a fresh batch of people to search through, but it was also to keep anyone from noticing a pattern in _their_ movements. Even with them both in disguise, the possibility remained. On their fifth night, in one of the seediest parts of the city – a corner she had been unaware of and wasn't likely to visit again – Beyond perked up, and pointed out the one they had been waiting for.

It was a woman, a young girl, really, and a performer at the strip club they had wandered into for their search. She couldn't have been more than fourteen, not even halfway through high school, and she was dancing, strutting on the stage with fewer and fewer articles of clothing to the whoops of the crowd. Her lifespan was, as ever to Misa, indecipherable, but her name was Kazuya Yufi.

Misa stared openly. She wasn't naïve to the ways of the world; in fact her career in entertainment had left her more jaded than most, but it still surprised her every now and then what some people did. Yufi's body was already well-developed, definitely feminine but still petite, and though her movements still had the slight uncertainty of a growing body, she was graceful. They were close enough to the stage that when the girl approached, Misa could see two things the lack of clothing revealed and her makeup couldn't hide: a set of bruises and track marks, new and relatively few, scarring her left inner elbow.

_Her?_ This girl barely into her teens was going to die? Misa turned her head slightly to look at Beyond. He was wearing the same burgundy sweatshirt she had given him out of her closet, overlaid with a slightly larger dark navy one, with the burgundy hood pulled up to obscure his features. Poor light, the hood and long, shaggy hair effectively hid the extensive burn scars on his face, and unless someone was very close they would only see Beyond's eyes as dark, not inexplicable garnet. While his distinctive damage and the hue of his eyes could be hidden or obscured, though, nothing could disguise the way he watched the girl on stage. It reminded her of a watchful dog. Alert, keeping its target in its sights.

"Are you sure?" Misa asked, keeping her voice pitched low.

Beyond nodded, his stare never wavering, as though he were afraid she would disappear the instant he looked away.

"When?"

"Within a few hours," he said. He quirked a humorless smile. "Our lucky day."

Misa shuddered, returned her attention to the dancing dead girl. Yufi stayed on only about fifteen minutes, and then disappeared backstage. She reappeared a few minutes later as one of the scantily clad 'waitresses' serving the patrons.

They kept their watch on the girl as she went through her shift. At one point she approached to their table, but Beyond had waved her away before she could get a greeting out. All in all, Yufi kept busy, serving drinks and providing some conversation, but none of her tables invited her to sit. Misa was beginning to really wonder, with her firmly entrenched indoors as she was, how Yufi was going to die? Trip in her heels and break her neck? She seemed too young to die of anything like a natural heart attack or a stroke, and while her workplace was distasteful it didn't seem overtly dangerous.

Finally, something changed. One of her tables had her stay with the drinks, and soon after Yufi and her patron both got up and left through the door in the back.

Misa looked at Beyond, who motioned with his head to leave out the front. If Yufi was set to die soon, then they couldn't afford to lose her. She was pretty sure the backdoor they had exited through led outside, but she didn't know how to get to that door from the outside.

Beyond knew the way, or found his way very quickly, navigating the small tangle of back alleys so they got from the entrance to the back of the strip club fairly quickly. Misa was worried they would be too late by the time they found Yufi again, but they weren't. In fact, Misa found herself quickly wishing they _had_ arrived a little later than they had. Yufi and her patron had come to the alley to have some… ah… _privacy_.

Misa felt her cheeks flush, and then flush even more when she looked to the side and realized that Beyond was observing the proceedings with the same, alert gaze he had worn inside. She wasn't inexperienced, but standing and spying on two people who were… And in the company of someone like Beyond Birthday! It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

So wrapped up in her own embarrassment she was that she almost missed when the situation changed.

At first, they seemed at least to both be enjoying themselves. The man had Yufi pressed against the wall, half hidden amid the gloom and stacks of boxes, but she was responsive to him, and if anything, more vocal than he was. Now Yufi was silent and her patron was louder, more energetic than ever. Misa frowned, leaned to a side in her and Beyond's impromptu hiding spot to try and make out what was going on. The way the man was holding his shoulders seemed off somehow…

He was strangling her! His hands clamped firmly around her slender throat, her mouth wide, fighting for breath and her tiny hands trying to pry away those of her patron's, all while the self-same continued to moan and satisfy his lusts in her dying body.

Beyond touched her shoulder and she almost screamed. She'd forgotten he was there. "Watch," he whispered by her ear. "This will be it, I'm sure. Watch him, watch her, watch their faces, but most of all watch her name. Watch her name as she dies."

Misa stared, horrified at what it was she had come to witness, it being driven home to her just what it was she and B had been seeking for nearly a week: They were going to watch a girl die. Not just die, but be killed right before their eyes. Somehow, it hadn't sunk in, the reality of it, until it was already happening.

She couldn't do it. With that realization came a decision, nipping right at its heels. She couldn't stand by and just watch as a young girl was strangled to death. She took a step towards the 'couple', unsure what it was she intended to do, but sure she could at least stop what was happening, maybe give Yufi time to get away, when fingers like iron wrapped themselves around her arm, keeping her from taking another step.

"Don't," B's voice was flat. No threat, no warning, no request, just a statement of how things would be. "You won't accomplish much. You can't change what it is you really want to change. That girl is _meant_ to die tonight. If you drive off her killer, she will still die."

"You don't know that." Misa could hear sounds coming from Yufi now. Tiny sounds of struggle escaping her crushed throat.

"Yes, I do. I spent a long time doing what it is you want to do right now. Nothing I did ever made any difference, none that mattered, really. They all died. The method can be changed, but not the outcome."

Yufi's struggles were getting more desperate, her sounds higher pitched as she realized that she really was in danger of being killed. To Misa's disbelief, the man's excitement only seemed to mount as Yufi's terror increased. Whatever B said, whatever she knew herself about lifespans, it was too much to ask that she just stand by and watch!

She might as well have announced her intention out loud, because just as she was preparing to break out of B's grasp, he yanked her back, clamping one hand firmly over her mouth his other arm wrapped around her waist and held her firmly against him. She'd been fooled by his build and his equability. B was much stronger than he appeared to be. He wasn't crushing her, but it was a little hard to breathe, and even harder to make any sound, even a squeak. What she could get out wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear.

"Surely Kira, even the 'second Kira' is not so squeamish? You will watch this, Amane. Know a truly pointless death, so you can appreciate the difference later."

So Misa watched, tears stinging her eyes and Beyond's hair tickling her cheek, as the last of Yufi's life was choked out of her. With those wonderfully useful eyes for which she had bargained away half of her life, she knew exactly when it was the fourteen year old girl ceased to be a girl and became a body. Misa watched as her eyes glazed and her name and lifespan gave a final, guttering flare like a dying flame, and then faded into the shadows.

…

The slap against his cheek stung much more than he thought it would, ringing in the apartment like a shot. It was immediately followed by a second, no less forceful strike, catching Beyond off guard. He had considered the possibility of one slap to be quite good, all things considered, but given Misa's behavior since leaving the alleyway, he would have thought her a little too… "zonked out" to give much more. Yet here she stood, over-bright eyes fierce and angry, body trembling and held in a way that said she was ready to leap at his throat at the slightest provocation, her breath coming in shallow gasps through her bared teeth, and her hand twitching, as though eager to strike him in the face a third time. Very different from the pliant girl he'd had to steer out of the alley, into a cab and up the stairs to her own home. She'd been little more than a walking doll, neither speaking or responding to any of his comments, and he'd been vaguely alarmed, wondering if perhaps he had pressed her too far for her mind to hold together.

The throbbing at his cheek, and the expression of betrayed hate spread over her lovely features, told him he need not worry on that score, at least. His lips twitched in amusement and pleasure.

The blonde, seeing the smile and perhaps interpreting it as a mocking sneer, flushed a deeper crimson, her tawny eyes seeming to light from within, the muscles in her neck standing like piano wires. "Don't you dare laugh at me, you… monster!" she hissed. He'd expected shouting. The low tone of her voice was startling, somehow making her young voice sound more vicious than any tantrum-like fit could have done. "Don't you dare stand there and laugh after what you had me do. I won't accept it."

Beyond couldn't quite quell the quirk of his lips, but neither did he allow it to grow any further. He just held his stinging cheek and regarded the petite hellcat that stood baring its fangs at him. She really was too delightful. So young and set in her convictions, so kind, and yet able to kill where she thought it was necessary; so long as she was far removed from the act itself, anyway. She was an odd dichotomy made especially interesting, caught as she was in the web of deceit and a fight for power woven of L, the Wammy House and Kira. She placed herself in Kira's camp, yet he could sense no bid for power coming from _her_. She was there for motives he couldn't quite place and held by love for a man who killed thousands. Love and conviction led her to kill, yet she somehow still retained a measure of innocence.

But it was her eyes – her eyes, her eyes, her eyes! – that truly intrigued him. Like his own, she saw what he saw, what he had been convinced he alone could see. She saw the names and lifespans of all she looked on, saw their mortality hanging over them, following them like a patient buzzard, waiting to stoop over their lifeless corpses when the time came. She saw as he did; he was not alone. Perhaps it made him feel a little more attached to her than he should, but how could he help himself? To suddenly not be the only creature who saw death staring back out of every face, the one freak who felt he only spoke to corpses that had not yet the sense to fall… it was a blessing. And even if he felt nothing at all of an attachment to Misa Amane the person, there was one other good reason why she held his attention so firmly. She, more than any other piece already in play, could upset the balance of the game. She had the eyes, of course, she had the powers of Kira, he was sure, and she had something else: A fascination with death. In any one else her age it might have been a passing phase, a temporary fad, but to one who had the sight he had, it was like to run much, much deeper.

Misa was a creature of singular powers, singular passions, but one driven entirely by her whims.

Whims could be guided.

Beyond rubbed his stinging cheek, the scarred flesh scraping across his fingertips. "Won't accept it?" he said, his voice as quiet as hers, matching her unbridled fury with flat neutrality. "What is it you won't accept, Miss Amane? That I am unaffected by what we have witnessed, or that you are?"

The girl's face twitched, too many emotions trying to express themselves at once. "I won't accept _you_," she ground out, her voice cracking under the strain. "_You_, standing there and taking enjoyment out of what we just watched. _I won't_, do you understand?"

She turned away abruptly, presenting her back to him as she hid her face. Beyond wondered, idly, at the priorities such a movement spoke of. To hide one's face, protecting their emotions, while presenting a defenseless back, exposing their physical bodies to harm. Beyond shook off the contemplation, refocusing his attention on the blonde. Instincts were just strange sometimes, he reasoned.

A few moments, and she took a deep breath, then another. Beyond waited as she gathered herself together. Finally, in a quiet voice still full of rage but also edged out in despair, she asked, "How? How could you just stand there and watch as she was… How could you force me to…?"

"Remember, Miss Amane, it was an experiment you agreed to, one that you willingly undertook." When she did not respond to the reminder, he swallowed an impatient sound, forcing his voice to remain neutral. "Nothing you could have done would have changed her fate. You would not have saved her from death. You know this."

"I know it. Or I think I know it, at least." She flipped around again, facing Beyond, her face as flushed as before. "But it shouldn't have mattered. Even knowing that, we should have _tried_. If we could have just _tried_ to save her… What kind of people sit aside and _watch_? Who listens to a little girl choking to death and does nothing to stop it? What do we become by doing nothing? If we had just tried… then there's a chance we might have remained human."

Beyond's mask of neutrality crumbled away as he barked out a harsh laugh. Misa looked up from where she had allowed her eyes to drift away, incredulity now warring with everything else for a place on her child-like face. "Human?" Beyond bit out. "Whoever said we were human to begin with, or that _you_ wished to remain so if you were? I do not believe anyone so close to Kira would trouble over their humanity so much, at least not where death is concerned. Witnessing Yufi's demise was vital to our experiment. And," he added as an afterthought, "given your reaction, I would say that it was a successful exercise."

"A success!" The exclamation was accompanied by a kind of helpless laugh. "A successful exercise! You mean I was meant to feel so twisted up, so unclean, like I've been soaking in oil and grime? That you meant for me to be this way?"

He shrugged, keeping his voice even. "Not every detail, but yes. The point of this night's excursion was to witness a death with no purpose. To see such an event must register emotionally with whomever is doing the witnessing. It can hardly fail to do otherwise. But the point of this experiment was to prove that some deaths serve a purpose, while others do not, and that of the two, to have a purpose is preferable. By your display of emotion, we know that what has been witnessed has left a strong, negative impression, which should serve well to show a distinct contrast to—"

Beyond was cut off by a shout, the first time Misa raised her voice. "I'm not one of your experiments!" The girl drew back her hand for a third time, let fly with all her rage and impotence of the moment—

– to have her wrist caught, her palm inches away from Beyond's face. She froze for a moment, stunned. When she gathered enough wits to try and pull away, Beyond held her tight, refusing to let her step away. She began to protest, to demand to be released, but froze again under the glare Beyond leveled her with. The blonde blanched, staring up into his face, and he knew she must really see him as a monster in this moment. The darkest of motives revealed, his fingers slowly crushing the bones of her wrist, garnet eyes staring out of a tortured face and into her… yes, he probably did look like a monster from the bloodiest of tales. Well, if such was the case, then there was no point in hiding it, was there?

"Of course you're an experiment, girl," he snarled, voice so low and threatening he felt her tremble slightly in his grip. "If not mine, then someone else's. We're all experiments of one kind or another. You, me, Yufi, Kira, L, _all of us_. Nothing but lifelong tests to see what will happen next."

"You don't know that," Misa whispered. "You're warped, all your views twisted around L so he and his methods are all you see."

"Perhaps. But let us not forget, mine is not the only vision that is affected by another." He tugged sharply at the wrist in his hand, pulling Misa's face close into his. The girl's breath became shallower and more erratic at the proximity, fluttering over Beyond's lips and cheeks in warm puffs. "After all, is it not for your precious, perfect Kira that you are conceding to this experiment in the first place?" He searched her face with his bloodstained eyes, his voice no more than a low rumble. "For him you're willing to brave the streets, all so full of treachery, in the company of one whose presence is known to be hazardous to your health." He leaned forward until his mouth was right beside the girl's ear. He felt her pulse jump under his fingers. "How deliciously hypocritical of you."

Misa felt like a statue, now. Every muscle taut and still as stone, frozen as though by freezing she might escape his notice entirely. But her pulse and her breathing gave her away. Both were obviously present, fast and erratic, and in the case of her breath, shallow. Unless a statue ever felt emotion to the point of sending the heart pounding, this was no statue.

Beyond released her abruptly, setting her stumbling and stepped away. Suddenly free, she sputtered, still angry and flushed, but now flustered and off-balance. Most of the force behind her previous fury was either already blown out or too confused to bring to bear. Taking advantage of that, Beyond turned away to stride into the sitting room, which acted as his bedroom, calling back over his shoulder:

"The second part of the experiment will be soon. Then we'll see where the difference between meaningless death and one with some purpose lays."

…

_**A/N2:**__ Thanks for reading, everyone! One or two more chapters to go. :D_


	3. Part III

_**A/N:**__ …You know, this could have been so easy. This could have been a one-shot request, a little drabble type thing, a one off piece that was all over and done with in about a month, and then I wouldn't have had to think about it again. But no. I had to give it thought and flesh out the characters, think of reasons why they would be put together, really imagine out what it would be like for them to interact as canon characters (or very close) and how that would slowly change over the course of time. I had to go and __**think**__ of how they would be reacting to each other internally and the kind of inner battles each would be fighting, the similarities they would see in each other, the conflict that would result, the eventual character evolutions and compromises that would be made… In other words, I had to actually like the story and put effort into it. _

_Goddamnit. _

_Anyway, my apologies for this taking so very long. Again. And no, this won't be the final part, even though it was intended to be. This seems to be happening with every chapter, but there's always more. This is swiftly turning into my second __Death Note__ novel, and I'm not at all sure how that happened._

_**Music:**__  
><em>Brainwash _and_ Flesh_ by Simon Curtis. _

_**Warning:**__ Rated 'M' for disturbing imagery, psychological trauma, gore and sexual situations; read with caution. True name reveals are a possibility._

_**Disclaimer: **__Death Note__ and related characters © Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. __Death Note: Another Note__ and related characters © NISIOISIN._

…

Jihi no Tenshi

Part III

Raven Ehtar

…

It was late, so late that it was crossing over into the very early. Misa Amane, pop idol, second Kira, angel to the new god, and increasingly regretful host to the serial killer Beyond Birthday, couldn't sleep. She had lain in bed for hours, switching between the dark view of the ceiling and the only marginally darker one lurking behind her eyelids. She had never found it difficult to sleep before. However many names she wrote in the notebook or tricks played on the authorities to make sure she and Light stayed free, none of those countless incidents had bothered her a fraction so much as one single death and the prospect of one more did. Whenever she closed her eyes, let her thoughts wander, it was like being transported, she was in the alley all over again…

Misa flung her blankets aside, giving up any pretext of sleep. She seemed to be maintaining it only for the benefit one particularly deep shadow hanging like a bat in the corner, and it wasn't paying any attention. Ryuk had decided to give sleep a try, since humans spent roughly one third of their lives doing it. Anything given that much time was worth a go, he'd reasoned. She wasn't sure how successful the attempt was, but she was more than happy to allow the _shinigami_ his experiments. Better that than to have him awake and staring at her the whole night. Or whatever it was he did while she was unconscious. She decided she'd really rather not know.

The girl swung her feet over the edge to the cold hard floor, shivered as the chill came up through her soles, but grateful for the sense of reality the feel of goose bumps prickling her skin conveyed. She sipped the water on her bedside table, it was tepid.

Tired but unable to sleep, she leaned forward, burying her face in her hands, the muscles at her neck and shoulders stretching, making a network of knots suddenly very obvious. She was going to be a wreck in the morning, and she had a fashion shoot for a magazine early. After so long of just stringing her agents along, it was the bare minimum she could get away with doing to get them off of her back. It would mean leaving B alone in the apartment for the morning and afternoon, but that didn't worry her so much as it once did. At the moment she was more concerned with how she would explain red-rimmed eyes and bags to her makeup team. Sleeplessness in conjunction with a long absence would give rise to some rumors. More rumors than there were already.

But she could hardly tell anyone what the real reason for any of it was, now, could she? That she had been held by a secretive investigative force on suspicion of being Kira, that she was now harboring a known, convicted and escapee murderer in her apartment. That would be an excuse notable in that no one would have used it before – much less also been completely true – and been utterly useless. No one would believe it even if she'd been willing to tell it.

_Beyond Birthday_… Misa's thoughts, caught in an endless loop that night, came back to her guest with the inevitability of taxes.

It was only the night before they had spent together, huddled in an alley as they watched a young girl raped, murdered and then left slumped by the dumpsters like garbage. She had been guided home by Beyond in a kind of trance, and then flown at the man as soon as the door was shut, the click of the latch like a magician's snapping fingers, bringing her instantly back to herself and full of rage. And fear.

The night before this Beyond had spoken calmly, then fiercely to her, promising that the second part of their 'experiment' would come soon. When next the sun rose he had behaved just as he had every other morning: just as though nothing at all had happened. He'd just set to in the kitchen, then sat for his breakfast, picking distractedly at the newspaper.

It was that afternoon, scant hours before, now, that he had turned to her and in a voice that might be used to tell her what he intended to have for lunch, told her what little he would about the second part of their project.

"You've seen a pointless death," he'd said, staring off into space dreamily. "One full of terror and no small amount of pain. What we will need next is someone else close to death, but this one we _will_ interfere with. We won't save them, but we can alter the circumstances of their demise."

"The circumstances?" Misa had responded, curious even through the dread that had settled over her regarding the exercise.

He'd nodded, still gazing somewhere much farther away than the far wall where his eyes were aimed, unfocused. "The selection will need to be precise," he murmured. "It's very delicate when one intends to meddle…" He'd trailed off, and after that didn't seem inclined to communicate at all, just stared at the wall, muttering occasionally to himself, leaving Misa to a barrage of phone calls that she'd put off as long as possible.

Beyond's words bothered her, the inherent implication of them. It hadn't been until they were past the point of no return in Yufi's case that the full realization of what they were doing had been driven home for her: that they were to witness someone's death but not interfere in any way. Now there was another similar situation set to happen, and she was even less well equipped to anticipate what was to happen than before. What were they going to do?

He called Yufi's death a purposeless one, one that carried no meaning and which only caused suffering. He talked about this future one as though it would be the opposite, that it would serve some end, somehow making it more justifiable. How were they meant to achieve that, exactly? How could a stranger's death be made to serve a purpose for them, or anyone? Beyond talked about circumstances, but what was he including in the term 'circumstances'? It was all so unclear to her, and after the experiences of the night before she was more than a little wary. Yet she couldn't back down from this now, not halfway through, not after what she'd already gone through.

Misa massaged her temples with her fingertips. It did little to relieve her building headache.

Beyond's few hints and her own doubts would have been enough for a sleepless night, but she had nightmares to contend with as well.

Bad enough to feel she'd already relived the scene over a hundred times while awake, the awful memory unrolling like film in her mind's eye, at night her dreams turned it vivid with color, sound, scent and touch. In most cases she remained where she had been that night, witnessing all yet doing nothing, but twice she dreamed she was in Yufi's place. She dreamt it was _her_ back pressed against the bricks. She dreamt that it was _her_ skirt being lifted, _her_ skin that was stroked and patted so admiringly, that it was _her_ throat that was slowly being crushed as she struggled to call or cry or fight. In the dream she could feel her heart beating as erratically as a maddened, caged bird, could hear the desperate pounding of her pulse pounding in her ears, taste of the salt of tears on her tongue. In the dream she could see, over the shoulder of her leering attacker, the shapes of people, just standing and watching as she died. Though she tried to call out to them, reached pleadingly with her hands, they did nothing as her world dimmed around the edges, and then went dark completely.

She woke, every time, heart racing, pulse pounding, panting as though she'd been sprinting and the taste of copper lingering in her mouth.

Only two nights since that scene, yet she'd relived it in full color more than a dozen times. It never seemed to lose any of its sting. The few, brief snatches of sleep she had gotten had all ended abruptly, her hair sticking to her brow and the nape of her neck with sweat. The last attempt had her in Yufi's shoes, watching herself – Misa – watch her be killed, then looking up to see her own name and lifespan flicker and burn out…

Misa shivered, the nightmare sheen of sweat chilling her to more goose bumps.

She was Kira and she knew death. She wasn't some soft, soppy girl whatever her public image might convey, and was familiar enough with horror that she shouldn't be so shaken by a single death, however atrocious. She had sentenced unnumbered people to die with her own hand, including a policeman she'd watched crumple to the ground. Why was this _one_ disturbing her so deeply? Was it really just because she'd been able to see the girl's eyes, to hear her, and watched to see the exact moment she died? Or was it because she was an innocent – a relative innocent? She had not been judged by Kira, was one of those Kira was meant to protect, to avenge. Was that why she was haunting Misa's dreams now?

Whenever she thought of the man, the vile killer that had lured Yufi into the alley to use her body before breaking it, a poisonous fury filled her heart, astonishing her with its virulence. She wanted that man dead, dead by _her hand_ for what he had put young Yufi through. But she had been too preoccupied when she and Beyond had been inside the club to notice his name or even much of his face, and in the alley he had never turned towards them. Besides, it would not bring back Yufi. His death, however deserved it might be, couldn't undo the evil he had done.

It wouldn't change how the teen had died in fear and pain.

Misa thought over what Beyond had said about his victims in LA, how they had been drugged, had felt perhaps a moment or two of disorientation and alarm, and then nothing at all. She wondered if that mightn't be a far preferable option, and a kind of killing that could possibly find approval in Kira's new world. She wondered, guiltily, if she shouldn't have done something herself to end Yufi's life more peacefully.

She looked at her bedside clock. 3:49am. She sighed. If she wasn't going to be getting any more sleep, she might as well get up and attempt to repair some of the damage a sleepless night had wrought on her face before heading out to the studio.

…

Her gig with the magazine went about as well as expected, which was to say not very well at all. Sleepless nights did not a bright and vivacious model make. Compounding the problem was the simple fact that Misa just couldn't find the same enjoyment she once got out of posing for a camera. She was out of practice and distracted, and couldn't find any value in posing in costumes. Yufi's face hung wraith-like before her eyes, the anticipation of their future excursion weighing heavy in her mind. And Beyond.

Beyond featured greatly in her thoughts. She pondered how he was spending his time while she was out of the apartment working, and tried to convince herself that such was the extent of her musings on the man. She wasn't very successful. She couldn't stop thinking about Beyond Birthday because the man confounded her. She was meant to be judging him, weighing his suitability as a Kira ally. Granted, she was gathering plenty of information about him now… but none of it helped to clear up the mystery of his personality, only knotted it up further.

From what L had told her about B, his actions, motivations and methods, she was more than prepared to condemn him as one of the worst kinds of fiends, a prime candidate for Kira's justice. His own words did as much to confirm her worst opinions as to deny them, and any sort of denial could easily be lies. Their witnessing of Yufi's death the night before and his refusal to act at the time went a long way towards that worst opinion – what sane or caring person could just stand by and do nothing?

And yet… there was something in Beyond, something that spoke to her, something that hinted at deeper waters than a 'madman killer' explanation could satisfy. There was more to him than met the eye, and Misa was intrigued. He still frightened her a little, that was true enough. Those depths she sensed hid something, dark shadows in his personality that sometimes showed through briefly before submerging again, but the vague sense of danger held its attraction as well. Misa was no coward, not one to cringe away from the prospect of peril to herself. She'd gone after Kira on her own, after all, what most would consider a foolhardy proposition at best. Beyond Birthday wouldn't likely to frighten her away.

If anything, she realized, her _interest_ in Beyond and his edge of danger only seemed to grow with each day. She frowned a little at the thought. Her investigation of him would have to conclude soon, before he became _too_ interesting.

The shoot ran long, and by the end everyone's smiles were strained. No one wanted to risk her contract by showing they were displeased with her, but Misa realized that the delay was largely due to her inability to focus, and everyone knew it. Well, fine, if their smiles were forced, then so was hers. It had been a long day made even more so by the constant, low grade anxiety. As soon as she could leave without causing offence she made a beeline back to her apartment, vaguely fearing that the longer-than-expected session had given Beyond enough time to plot the overturning of the world's governments from her couch.

Of course, nothing of the kind had happened in her absence. Ryuk reported on her entering the apartment that he had never left, or even used the phone. He'd gone through his usual routine of watching television, reading the paper or using the computer – mainly for more sources of local news, but a few map sites were also thrown in. When she walked into the living room Beyond was indeed there, curled behind a large paper on the sofa, a few places in the columns picked out in red pen for some reason.

It suddenly occurred to Misa that the paper Beyond was reading without any apparent difficulty was in Japanese, and one of the more prestigious papers available, whose range of _kanji_ could prove difficult even for natives. No one would expect a _gaijin_ to have such mastery of the language; yet here it was. Beyond tore through the printed news like it was a comic book, with no sign of a supplementary dictionary. It was another, if minor mystery about him. Where had he learned Japanese so well, so thoroughly, and why?

Beyond didn't look up when he heard her come in, but spoke from the other side of the print. "Welcome home. Good day at the office?"

Misa bridled a little on principle. His tone was very much like a spouse, and she felt he was mocking her somehow. She curbed any retort that leapt to her tongue, knowing that to call him out on it would only start a long bout of battling it out with words. She'd learned the easiest and quickest way to end an argument with Beyond was to avoid beginning one at all.

So instead of returning his comment with a jibe she sat down on the couch beside him, pulling her feet up onto the cushions and curling into a comfortable position. "Well enough," she said mildly, looking over Beyond's arm to read which columns he'd marked out with marker. They appeared to be random; one or two reports on local, low-end crimes, one person's theory on Kira – wrong – an advertisement for the grand opening of a pastry shop that specialized in Danish savories, another ad for free kittens, a missing notice for a pair of siblings… she shook her head at the choices, giving up on trying to spot any common thread between them. "You seem to have had an uneventful day," she said.

Beyond, who had frozen, his eyes swiveling to watch her curiously the moment she sat beside him, turned back to the paper with a small shrug. "I've learned to appreciate uneventful days. Sometimes they are to be preferred over the alternative."

Misa huffed a little, lifting her arms above her head to stretch. "But so boring…" she complained.

Beyond tilted his head, his lips twitching as his garnet eyes looked her over. "Not necessarily," he said easily, earning a blush from the blonde. "And besides," he continued, turning away again before she could respond to his comment, "'uneventful' is not the same as 'unproductive'. I've had a very productive day even while restricting myself to the apartment."

"Oh?" Misa asked, interested and trying to fight down the damned telltale flush still staining her cheeks. "In what way?"

"I've found our next target."

She looked at him sharply, wondered if Ryuk had, for whatever reason, lied to her when he said B hadn't left the apartment. "What, from here?" she asked incredulously.

Beyond nodded. "From here. It's a wonderful thing, living in the information age."

Misa could agree with that. Certainly living in a time when a thousand esoteric facts were literally at her fingertips had had its advantages. It was hard to imagine not being able to look up whatever information she wanted and have it instantly available. She supposed that this also explained the patchwork pattern of highlighted ads in the paper, that he'd been using it somehow to run down their next, eh, 'target'. She shifted a little in her seat. If Beyond had found them already, then the next stage of their strange study was nearing with unnerving speed. She'd hoped for a long delay, such as all the time it had taken to find Yufi. Apparently such respite was not to be, and the time was fast approaching.

"That was fast," she commented in a monotone. "When will we have to go and find them?"

"Tonight. Well, early this evening, really. I'm making an educated guess on the location, so there will be a little searching involved."

Misa frowned, looked at Beyond searchingly. He did not look at her, nor did he turn his face completely away under the weight of the scrutiny, but acted as though he didn't notice at all, his focus all on the newsprint he held so delicately in his fingers. She was sitting on his left side, the side that was covered in scars – correction, the side that was _visibly_ covered in scars. She still remembered the first day she'd carted the strange man home and got a good look at him, how the licks of ruining heat had spread to the right side of his body by the time they reached his lower ribs. Then after his hips, who knew how much area they covered? Misa assumed everything.

In terms of her comfort with his scars Misa had come a long way since first meeting Beyond. At first she'd been repelled by them, by their appearance and the sympathetic twinges she felt in her own flesh whenever she looked at them, by the uncomfortable sense of contradiction she got when looking at a face that was both twisted and demonic, but then soft and so painfully human. She'd been able to look at him, but not without feeling uneasy. Living in close quarters with the man had blunted the sharp edge of her distaste rather quickly, until she no longer felt it was a struggle to look Beyond in the face. Now… now she was finding herself staring at the scars, not out of horror, but absorption. She wondered what it felt like to have half of your face a relatively immobile mask, or what stretching or walking was like with a waist of twisted flesh. She wondered if those areas still had sensation, or if they were numb, or if they were _over_sensitive. She wondered what the 'seams' between scar and whole skin were like, or the graphs, those smooth yet foreign islands amid the sea of rippled skin. She wondered what all of this would feel like under her fingers if she happened to reach out and touch him.

Misa blinked, forced her attention back to the now. "What will we be doing, when we find them, I mean? We won't just be watching this time, will we?"

"No," B said, shaking his head, ragged hair swinging over his ravaged features, brushing his shoulders. "I don't know exactly what we _will_ find, but if anything is certain, it's that we will not be passive observers. We will be players in tonight's drama, whatever it happens to be."

"'Changing the circumstances'," Misa recalled aloud, drawing a nod this time.

"Yes. Yufi's death was an example of one that served no purpose. It was pointless for her to die, and worse, by not interfering it was violent as well. Tonight will be different. We _will_ interfere to give purpose."

"What purpose could we possibly give a death that's already due to happen?"

"My hope is that will become evident when the time arises."

The girl frowned again, but subsided. She wasn't happy with the replies she was being given by Beyond, but also had a sneaking suspicion that she was subconsciously trying to find fault in his schemes out of her own sense of unease. That thought annoyed her even more than his roundabout way of speaking. She couldn't afford to be so squeamish.

She was also turning over something else he had said in her mind. That 'by not interfering it was a violent death'. Did that mean her guesses were right, that if they had acted Yufi wouldn't have had to die so horrendously? Beyond said that you couldn't prevent death, the lifespans were immutable, but could they affect the manner of death? All of his hints seemed to point to something like that.

What was his plan for tonight, then? To witness another murder, but this time step in and… what? Kill the victim themselves, quickly and sneakily, so the victim never knew what hit them?

"Who is our new experiment, then?"

The paper rustled as B flipped backwards several pages, then folded it so one in particular faced out, turned it for Misa to examine wordlessly. She squinted at it, wondering which column he meant for her to read, and then saw that there was a photo on this page. Only one of a person's face, their name and lifespan flaring to life for her _shinigami_ eyes at once.

She stared at the photo, barely registering the name as Wakahisa Masahiro as she took in each feature of the face disbelievingly. She was aware of Beyond watching her carefully, but it wasn't until she glanced up that she realized the intensity of the stare. His eyes bored into her as she looked up.

"B… this is a _child._"

…

It wasn't that this was a bad part of town, Misa thought to herself as she followed Beyond, slipping furtively from one cluster of deepening shadow to the next. Soon it would be proper night, and it wouldn't be a matter of finding darkness, but avoiding any pools of light; the streetlamps, shop lights and passing headlamps. It was already well into that treacherous stage of the battle between day and night, when colors were bled away and the world became a flat, featureless canvas, the night still too far away to cast the long shadows, giving dimension, depth, or even _shape_. It made it easy to stumble over stones or miss important signs when one couldn't see properly.

No, it wasn't that it was such a bad part of town – which it was. It was that this wasn't what she would have called a proper part of the city at all. It must have been, she supposed. There were still plenty of buildings about, though shorter and much more run down than those anywhere near her nice, modern apartment complex, and they had not passed from one city to the next on their journey here. It had to be a part of her city, however much she wanted to disbelieve it.

Beyond and Misa were, in this dwindling twilight, making their way along the riverside, ducking in and out of the little choked alleys between the largely abandoned and moldering warehouses. Windows were boarded up on the majority of them, chains and fences put up to keep out the belligerently curious, and heaps of rubbish gone long without collection making small mountains at every corner. The smell from the river, which Misa thought would have made a good respite from the streets, was heavy and rank, permeating everything. There was graffiti on practically every flat surface to be seen, and there had been more than one knot of young men gathered and murmuring lowly to each other since she and B had arrived in the area.

It wouldn't take a genius like Light or L to know that this was a dangerous neighborhood. Though the only individual to come anywhere near them or to notice them at all had been a single homeless woman, pawing through one of the rubbish heaps. Misa had jumped, when she spotted her, she and B nearly walking straight into her. Then when the woman's worn, tired face had turned toward her, she'd felt guilty of everything from her expensively styled hair to her bright new shoes under the penetrating, covetous stare.

That was the only incident even vaguely aggressive, yet Misa was still glad to have the hunting knife Beyond had given her. Tucked into the waistband of the long pair of pants she wore, Misa had at first refused the unfamiliar weapon, but then accepted it dubiously when B had told her where they would be searching. She was Kira, but her victims were the result of writing down names, not of fighting. Even with the six inches of wicked metal in her hand she was vulnerable, but not nearly so vulnerable as she might be empty handed. The precaution was a welcomed one when she had time to consider it.

The sun was beginning to set in earnest when Beyond started showing signs of real agitation. He expected to find the boy in this area for some reason, but so far they'd had no luck. She wasn't at all sure _why_ he thought this area was a probable candidate. Wakahisa Masahiro, according to the news article, was an eight year old son of a businessman and a florist living on the other side of town, nowhere near the river. He'd gone missing on the way to school one morning, his disappearance not discovered until that afternoon when the school had finally gotten through to the florist mother. His backpack had been discovered in a park a mile away – a mile even further from their current location amongst the warehouses – and no ransom note had appeared. There were as yet no witnesses, no description of the abductor or the mode of transportation. It was suspected that Masahiro's kidnapping was but the latest of a recent outbreak of kidnappings, all young boys, none of whom having been found yet. There was very little hope.

Yet B thought that he would be here. Further, he thought they would find the boy alone, the kidnapper nowhere to be found. The knife she carried and whatever weapon he had concealed – she refused to believe he'd left himself defenseless – were for 'in case'. B wanted them to play a more active role, but outright battle wasn't to be that role. Misa tried to figure out what it all meant, if he'd somehow arranged for all of this. But he couldn't have kidnapped Masahiro himself. He'd never left her apartment save in her company – she had Ryuk's word on that – and the boy had been snatched only five days ago, long since Misa had taken the man in. It couldn't be an accomplice, as B didn't even place calls, and after some very specific questions were put to the _shinigami_ she knew he'd neither sent nor received any emails. Any possible outside help would have to be acting entirely without cues, which Misa found hard to credit. How would they know when to put everything into motion, or even what the plan was at all, without some conference with B? She wondered if this wasn't all just some kind of hoax, and Beyond had brought her here to this out of the way place without anyone else having the least idea where she was in order to kill her. But then why give her a knife, why the weeks of living with her beforehand, or this particular 'experiment' as bait? There were much simpler ways of drawing a victim to a suitable place than this.

Misa was mystified, but followed along, minding where she stepped and keeping a sharp eye open for others out in the twilight. Ryuk was drifting along with them, an invisible and silent shadow to all but herself, but she trusted him as an early warning lookout about as much as she trusted him as a doctor.

Shadows were lengthening and joining to form large unbroken pools of darkness when they came to one particular warehouse where, after entering, Beyond stepped aside and swept his arm wide in a welcoming fashion. He grinned a little at her. "Since you have been so good as to have me in your own home, _Yukiko_," he said blandly, using her chosen alias for the outing, "allow me to welcome you to my own abode." Then he said something short in English, something that sounded like bitter irony, but which she didn't recognize.

Stepping in carefully over broken glass and jumbled detritus, Misa looked around in fascinated repulsion. It was no worse than many other warehouses they'd been inside, but with the idea of someone _living_ in one made it seem much worse. The walls were thin, not meant to keep out the chill, only the worst of the weather, and plenty of that was getting in now due to the large rents in both the walls and the roof. Damp had gotten in, standing water turning to scummy breeding patches for mosquitoes and midges and making the whole place smell. In the failing light it was hard to see, but the ramps and walkways looked largely whole, though Misa wouldn't have trusted them with her weight without testing every step.

"You… lived here?" Misa asked, her voice a whisper.

"In a manner of speaking," he replied in the same low tone, pressing past her. Keeping close to the outside wall he worked his way into the building, keeping his eyes aimed into the shadows should something or someone be concealed there. "There's a roof, most of one, anyway, the neighbors are quite careful to _not_ be curious and the rent's unbeatable."

Misa wrinkled her nose. The revelation that Beyond had once lived here did nothing to alleviate her earlier misgivings over his intentions. Still she followed his crablike progress, reasoning that sticking close to him was safer than waiting by the entrance on her own.

After a few minutes of careful, quiet shuffling in the darkness, Misa asked, "Where are we going? You're not looking for the boy, so what are we doing?"

"Since we're in the neighborhood, I thought I would check if any of my things survived my long absence."

She blinked. Of course, she should have known that B would own something other than the clothes on his back, but had never thought about it before. Though to be fair, he had never mentioned anything, either.

It wasn't until they reached the back of the warehouse, where it was so black that Misa was holding Beyond's arm and taking tiny steps to avoid falling over anything in the darkness that B stopped, disengaged Misa's hand and the sounds of muffled clattering came at about floor level. She wondered if he was somehow able to see in the gloom or if he was operating by pure memory and touch. _She_ couldn't see anything more than dim outlines at this point and doubted whether his perception was any better.

There was a grunt in the darkness near her feet, then a scrape of wood, then a shifting of something that sounded large.

"Well, well. I _am_ impressed."

Misa squinted into the dark, trying to see more than shadows. "Did you find your things?"

"Yes, and doesn't seem to have been meddled with, either." There was the sound of a zipper coming undone, rummaging, then a moment later a small click. In the darkness it was like a small sun coming on, making Misa squint and turn away. In reality it was only a small flashlight, its light mostly dampened by B's cupped hand, but still painfully bright. When she looked back again she saw that Beyond was crouched beside an open panel in the floor, the pulled away section revealing a medium sized hole which held a half-full, grubby backpack. The pack was open and B was picking through it. All Misa could see of the inside was clothing.

There was a sound from behind Misa, somewhere in the cavernous darkness of the warehouse, making her spin and see what she could with the light leaked out from between B's fingers. There was nothing to be seen, and after her heart was no longer in her mouth she decided it was only the building settling that she heard. "Do you think he _could_ be here?" she called softly behind her.

"No." The light went out, and darkness rushed back. It was amazing how much such a small light could do. Behind her the pack's zipper sounded again. There was the sound of the floor panel settling back into place and Beyond coming to his feet, stepping up to stand beside her. He sighed. "I'm starting to think I was mistaken about where the boy is. There's been no sign here…"

"How much time do we have?" By which she meant, _how long before the boy dies?_

Misa felt B move a little in the dark, a shrug. "A couple of hours. It would have been close even if we'd found him early on. Now there will be even less time to do anything, even if we do find him."

Misa wasn't sure what she felt about that. The thought of not being able to do anything for the missing boy made her feel helpless and depressed, but at the same time she couldn't help the slight relief of not finding an eight year old boy only to watch him die, or to become involved in his death. Which in turn only made her feel cowardly, guilty, much as the stare of the homeless woman on her clean face and good clothes had done.

Another sound of the building settling echoed around the darkness. Misa shivered at the cold, clinging dampness. "Why did you pick here to live, of all places?" The question came out softly, without her meaning to ask it.

"Honestly? Because there are so few respectable people about. It's easier to get away with being a shady character when you're surrounded by many of the same, you instantly become less noticeable. And like I said before, the neighbors aren't very prone to look in on what you're doing. It would just encourage others to return the attention."

"Are the people around here really so blind? They would deliberately not see _anything_?"

"Well, no," B conceded. "There are limits, even for this 'community.' It would take something considerably worse than any of their own sins to get them to come forward to the authorities, but they would eventually. If someone wanted to do something _really_ despicable than they would have to find somewhere a little more private—"

Beyond suddenly cut himself off. Misa looked over curiously. He was close enough that even in the dim light she could see the sudden, alert look on his features, his eyes staring off to somewhere in the middle distance. She was about to ask what the matter was when he grabbed her hand and tugged her along, back to the entrance. "There's one last place he could be if he is anywhere in the area, but we need to hurry."

The last possible place in the area where Masahiro could be, according to Beyond, was another long abandoned building, but not a warehouse. This was an old set of offices, set two blocks back from the river, and had one advantage over all the empty storage buildings in the eyes of criminals hoping to keep their actions unseen by the curious. It had a basement.

Forced to use B's small flashlight in the pitch darkness in the lower level, the two of them explored the underground complex of rooms. Rather than offices, this area seemed to be all storage and records keeping, boxes and filing cabinets still much in evidence. Ryuk complained about the fast transition made from one boring place to the next, shifting his shoulders so his ruff of crow feather rustled and the metal ornaments clinked, but Misa ignored him. She had to for Beyond's sake, who was still perfectly oblivious to him, but she would have done so even without her scarred companion. Ryuk was always complaining about something, it was best to tune the floating apparition out entirely.

Besides which, it didn't take long to find the boy once they were in the right building.

He was in a small room set aside specifically for the storage of office supplies. Paper, staples, ink, files, here was where one came to restock. The shelves were bare now, and a small nest of blankets was gathered in the center of the floor. The door was closed but not locked. Misa felt her limbs lock as soon as the door opened. She knew, she _knew_ that here was where they would find Masahiro, and now she knew she did _not_ want to be here. Frozen as she was on the threshold, she could still look in.

The boy, a shapeless lump amid the blankets, didn't move when the door opened, even though the hinges squealed horribly when it swung. He couldn't have simply slept through it.

Misa wondered at his inactivity, why he hadn't tried to get away from his makeshift prison when the door wasn't even bolted. She stopped wondering when Beyond turned him over so she could see his face.

Misa turned away, gagging, fighting to keep her stomach down while at the same time trying to blot out what she had just seen from her mind. Even Ryuk had exclaimed at what was left of little Wakahisa Masahiro, missing son of the businessman and the florist.

Misa fervently hoped they never saw him again. Not like this.

When she felt like she could risk another look, Beyond had gathered the sorry scrap of humanity into his lap, was sitting cross-legged in the nest of rags and cradling him like an infant. There was no acknowledgement from the boy, not so much as a stir. The realization that she could still see the boy's name and the confused jumble that made up his lifespan even after what had been done to him, in particular his face, only made her skin crawl even more. And the small, half gurgling, half sobbing sounds he made, proving that he was alive, possibly even _aware_…

Misa swallowed hard, bunching her hands to fists to concentrate on the pain of her nails sinking into her palms.

Beyond caught her eye, beckoned her over with his head. She didn't want to come near, and for a moment her legs refused to obey her reluctant commands. After a moment, her limbs unlocked and she stumbled, feeling in a dream, into the foul closet. There were scraps of food in the blankets, she realized, sitting down gingerly. Sandwiches, _bento _boxes, _onigiri_, juice pouches and soda cans… even candy. While whoever had kidnapped him was doing… _this_… to him, they still gave him candy. Misa felt fresh nausea sweep over her in a wave.

B waited for her to steady, and then said in a low voice, "You need to hold him for a minute."

Misa panicked. "What, why? You don't expect me to stab him to death, do you?"

"No." The swift, flat denial calmed her more than any number of soothing words could have done. "No, I don't expect you to stab the boy. But look at him." Misa could hardly keep herself from doing so. "He's not so out of it that he can't feel, but his lifespan has him dying within the hour. …I don't think he'll die so soon without help. We will have to kill him, but I intend to do it so it's peaceful."

She didn't understand what he meant, but the sight of Masahiro's face, what remained of it, made anything hard to understand, hard to focus. Numbly she nodded, settled herself and held out her arms for the boy.

He hardly weighed anything, and gasped as he was transferred from one to the other of them; a wet, broken gulp of air. Misa bit her lip until she tasted blood. Holding the boy as gently as she could, his skin was cool where her fingers brushed him. She could feel him breathing weakly, could feel the struggle each breath was for him. Up close, she saw how his features screwed themselves up, trying to form a frown. The smell of blood, sweat, infection and fear clung like spider web to his tiny body. Beyond didn't think he would die on his own within an hour? She would be shocked if he lived more than ten minutes.

Her attention taken up by the boy in her arms, Misa didn't notice what B was up to until a small clink of glass made her look up. What she saw made her already quick heartbeat pick up again. From somewhere, presumably his recovered pack, Beyond had found the makings for and was putting together a small, slender hypodermic needle. When it was finished his hand disappeared into the canvas pack, rummaging around until he found a small glass phial of clear fluid. In the limited light of the flashlight's beam, he peered myopically at the label. While doing so he caught Misa's stare.

"What is that?"

Beyond looked at the vial again, and something flickered over his face, some expression that was quite possibly grief. Or regret. He sighed, jabbed the needle through the lid and drew out a full chamber of the fluid into the hypodermic. "Mercy," he said.

He looked up again, locking Misa's tawny eyes with his hard garnets. "You remember when I told you how all of my victims – Bridesmaid, Queen, Bottomslash – they were all drugged and insensate when I killed them?" Misa nodded. Beyond held up the full hypodermic between thin fingers.

"This is what I used. A mix of my own, a little bonus to having an aptitude for chemistry. This will completely deaden pain while leaving such sensations as pressure intact." He hesitated a moment, licked his lips, and then continued. "Depending on the dose, it can leave the one who takes it conscious but numb, render them unconscious, or kill them. Different degrees of mercy, depending on what is required." The needle turned slowly, glinting in Beyond's fingers. It was full, but so small…

"A dose of this size, on someone Masahiro's age and weight, is a full measure of mercy."

Misa stared at the needle point, gleaming like a star. She hated needles, but she had to admit to a certain fascination for what this particular hypodermic contained, what it had taken for Beyond to concoct it, what sort of motivation had driven him. Why did he call it 'mercy'? When B remained frozen, she realized that he was waiting for a sign from her before injecting the boy. A spasm shook the little body in her arms, something that might have been a whimper whistled through broken teeth.

Misa nodded.

After the boy was dosed his trembling, a constant shiver she had thought was due to cold, stilled, his breathing steadied and slowed. Beyond offered to take him back from her after putting away the needle safely in his pack, but Misa refused to let him go, now. Letting him go now when he was about to die, making him face it alone or even in B's arms, when he's already been so alone… she couldn't do it.

They sat in the darkness, in the underground storeroom of an abandoned building, the half burned serial killer and the pop idol that held the power of death gods, watching as the boy who hardly had a face slowly died between them.

"I'm sorry," Beyond said eventually, so quietly that for a moment Misa thought she'd imagined it. When he spoke again it was louder, firmer. "I'm sorry we arrived so late. We're achieving some purpose in easing his pain, but if we had been earlier we might have spared him more. We might have spared him," he indicated his mutilated face, the damaged body, "_this_."

It was hard at times to read B's expressions. He often held his face immobile when he wanted to keep his feelings private, his eyes shuttered. However, Misa felt she'd made some progress in learning some of the subtler signs of his moods. His tone when he spoke, the set of his shoulders and the way he leaned forward, the peculiar intensity of his eyes when he looked at Masahiro… Misa was sure he meant what he said. She shook her head, looking down at Masahiro again. "If it's even only an hour's comfort, I think it's worth it, B. It's an hour not spent in this hell he's been put in."

They fell silent after that, the passing of time kept by Masahiro's breathing. For a while it steadied, seemed to grow stronger, and Misa almost thought he might even be recovering, that B's injection had miraculously healed him… but the breaths only got slower and slower, the pauses between them longer and longer.

Like Yufi, they knew the moment life left Masahiro from the fierce burning of his name and lifespan guttering, and then fading out entirely. Unlike Yufi, however, Misa didn't _need_ to see when life fled – she felt it in the final, powerful all-body shudder, then in how every muscle in the little body went slack.

Neither of them said a word, but laid the boy down in his sad nest of blankets. There didn't seem to be anything that could be said, and Misa was grateful B didn't make the attempt. She wasn't sure she would have been able to match the effort if he had, as her mind was filling up with thoughts of the kidnapper, the monstrosity that had done this to Wakahisa Masahiro. She looked around the closet, at the food and candy, at the boy's face, and rage, rage of a sort she had not felt since her own family had been killed, filled her from her toes to the roots of her hair. She determined that she _would_ find out the identity of the kidnapper, would see the face, and when she wrote down his name in the notebook, it would not be a quick heart attack that carried him off. She would fashion for him the most painful, lingering death she could contrive and that the book could facilitate. That would be justice.

It was while wrapped in such dark thoughts that Ryuk, who had been so silent Misa had almost forgotten about him, suddenly spoke.

"Looks like you two have company…"

Misa, her mind an evil swirl, jerked her head at the sing-songy voice, earning a confused look from B. She didn't care. In the storm of her thoughts, only one shone through that she could understand: it was the kidnapper approaching, come back to check on his toy.

She stood, the rushing blood in her ears turning the little room to a boiling sea. She had the hunting knife in her clenched hand, but couldn't remember how it had got there, or why.

_He's coming. He tortured the boy._

Two steps had her at the door. Beyond was asking her a question, but she couldn't understand, didn't listen.

_He hurt him, and then gave him __**candy**__. Like an apology!_

The door jerked open. She couldn't remember later if it was by her hand or the kidnapper on the other side, because he was right there, holding another flashlight, his face rigid with shock at the sight of her. Misa bared her teeth.

_He peeled the boy's face away._

Beyond shouted; there might have been words in it. Ryuk laughed. The kidnapper tried to back away, his hand reaching for something. Misa shrieked her fury and the knife flashed forward.

There was a thud, some resistance to her momentum. Her hands were suddenly very warm. The man's eyes widened. A red bubble came from his mouth. He fell down very slowly.

Red on her hands, her jacket, her shoes. Buzzing in her ears. Beyond carefully taking the knife.

Tears burned her cheeks when they started running.

…

Glass met the floor with an unsteady clinking.

It was dim in the kitchen, but Misa didn't think she could stand having the lights on. At the moment she preferred it dark, it gave the illusion that she could hide, though what she wanted to hide from the most was herself, her memories.

It was late, once again edging into early as the sun crept closer to dawn, and Misa couldn't sleep. She'd barely tried to after getting back to the apartment. She could feel the nightmares waiting for her just on the other side of consciousness. The dim kitchen, a hard floor and new bottle of wine was a far more companionable alternative.

Her memories after Wakahisa Masahiro had died were muddled and confused, but what she _did_ remember was more than she wanted. The kidnapper returning, Misa drawing her hunting knife, stabbing the man as soon as the door opened, not thinking he might be armed or might fight back, only that he deserved to die and _she could do that._ She could do that much and justice of a kind would be done. She didn't remember if the dead man had screamed, or if Beyond had called out behind her, or even is she had said anything afterwards. She remembered how the flesh resisted the bite of the knife, how her hands had grown warm and slick, how the man's name had flared away into oblivion before she'd had a chance to read it. She remembered the look in his eyes as he died, and she remembered the dark elation swelling in her heart when she saw it.

After that was the seemingly endless memory of running. She thought she remembered the knife being taken gently from her hand, her jacket being wrestled off of her and another jacket – Beyond's it must have been – put over her shoulders. Her jacket and the knife had been left somewhere, hidden where no one would find them. They'd come home, into the apartment, and in her daze she's allowed Beyond to remove her blood spattered clothes, her shoes and the borrowed jacket, and then he'd herded her into the shower.

The words he said at the time floated up in her foggy recollections. "_Wash thoroughly, Misa. Everywhere. Between your toes, under your nails, behind you ears. Take off a layer of skin if you have to._"

With her mind an empty, echoing hollow at the time, the instructions had rung clear and undeniable. She'd cleaned herself so thoroughly she was red raw when she stepped out, her hands especially. She just couldn't seem to wash away the sticky feeling between her fingers…

She hadn't known where B was, hadn't gone looking for him. Instead she'd wandered into her own bedroom, still wrapped in damp towels, and sat on the edge of her bed as the warmth of the shower slowly seeped away from her and she shivered, staring at nothing, desperately clinging to the nothing that resounded in her skull, dimly aware that when thoughts could form again they would be terrible.

When Beyond came in she remembered looking up without really seeing him. Wrapped in a slipping, sodden towel on her bed, she hadn't even had enough energy to berate him for coming in, nor when he gently encouraged her into a nightgown and then into bed. She'd allowed it all, like a lifeless doll. Laying in the darkness, slowly warming back up again was when her mind also seemed to thaw at last, releasing the poisonous torrents of thought.

And now she was here, sitting in the dark on her kitchen floor, her fingers wrapped around the neck of a newly opened bottle of red wine. She was trying to achieve that same mental numbness that she had coming away from the murder, to forget the sensation of a knife in the flesh, of her hands being washed in a killer's blood… and at the same time she was trying to remember. She was trying to remember how she had gotten to this point, what she had been trying to accomplish that ended up having her killing a man in a Gods forgotten basement. She wanted justice, didn't she? A new world free from sin, that was why she had taken the death note so willingly, had found the new god Kira and become his angel. Then she'd found Beyond Birthday, a demon in man's tattered skins or a man in the guise of a demon, she couldn't be sure, and had taken him in. She'd wanted to find out his true intentions, determine if he was a threat… but something had happened, hadn't it?

The wine was sweet and warm, and stung the back of her throat.

Something had happened while Beyond was living with her. She'd become less certain of her purpose, less certain of everything around her, and had taken his suggestion to put it all to the test. It had been to regain stability, to find that rudder to steer her life and learn all she could. Well, she had, and what had she learned? That people die all the time, that humanity held the keys to hell in their souls, that offering comfort in dying hours was worth the pain to herself? That killing a man had brought her pleasure. Stability was still a teasing siren, her rudder as unreachable as ever.

Misa's head dipped forward until her forehead rested against her raised knees. Muscles in her back ached at the stretch.

_What am I doing? What do I really want?_

A soft footfall warned her a moment before the familiar voice broke the silence.

"Dreams too loud to sleep?"

Misa raised her head again. It felt heavy and her neck too weak to hold it, and the shape of Beyond standing in the door of the kitchen was slightly blurred. She attempted a small smile. "Loud enough I can hear them from here."

The bleary shape of B wavered, approached and sank down to sit beside her on the floor, resting his back against the cupboards. He didn't turn his head towards her, but stared straight ahead to the hard floor. "I thought they might," he said to the ground. "It's hardest in the beginning. I won't say that it gets better, but it does get less bad."

Misa considered laughing, but wasn't sure she could stop again if she started. She looked over at him, but decided her head was too heavy to hold up and rested it on her knees again, her temple pressed on one leg. His right side was to her, with no scars visible. In the deep shadows, it was hard to even tell who it was. "Do you have nightmares?" she asked softly.

Beyond was silent for a moment; then, "Yes. Every night."

"How do you stand it?"

He chuckled, but it sounded strained. It sounded like the laugh that rattled against the inside of Misa's ribs, wanting to get out. Held back tightly to prevent it from getting away and never returning. "I don't."

She stared at him. She knew, distantly, that she should hate him. She should despise him for what he had done to her life. Before he had arrived it had been far from simple and not at all safe, but she had at least been secure in the knowledge of who she was and what she did. She had _known_ then where her alliances lay and the color of her soul. She hadn't wondered then if she would be a candidate for Kira's justice herself is viewed through another pair of eyes. Now, even more than the night they had stood and watched a teenaged girl be strangled in an alley, she should be striking him in fury, flying at him, clawing out those eyes that only seemed to reflect back death in their glance, red as the blood on her hands.

At yet hate eluded her. She couldn't hate him, as much as she wished she could. She'd seen too much of a gentle man in the time he had been with her to think of him as a monster. He did things for reasons no monster could. He killed, but he also made death kind. He made death a friend. He wasn't like the kidnapper in the basement, or the rapist in the alley. His victims never knew that kind of pain and fear.

He still had nightmares.

_The world isn't black and white,_ she thought. _He's making me see in shades of gray._

Misa's eyes drifted, came to rest on the inner flesh of B's elbow. Her smooth brow wrinkled as another memory rose up. She tried to catch it, but exhaustion and wine made it difficult.

"_How do you stand it?"_

"_I don't."_

She caught the memory: _Track marks._

"Why haven't you started going through withdrawals?" she murmured.

Beyond looked over at her, startled by the suddenness as much as by the question. He raised an eyebrow at her quizzically.

"It's just that you've been here so long," she explained, the words muzzy. "And your needle was in your backpack. I know you haven't been using here, but there's no withdrawal symptoms. Why?"

A corner of B's mouth came up, a humorless half smile. "Because I have a needle, you assume I'm an addict, even after you've seen what I use it for? Very prejudiced, Miss—"

"You have track marks," Misa cut in. He fell silent, and she continued. "When I first brought you here I cleaned you up, remember? I saw scars, and not just your burns. One set was track marks, the sign of a user. Has it just been so long that you don't need to use any more?"

B let out a rueful breath. "Heh. You have good eyes, in more ways than one." He paused, turned to study the floor again. "I have injected myself, many times over," he admitted. "But only with my own mixes. I needed to test them, you see, before I could trust to use them on anyone else, and I was the only volunteer I had."

"You tested… 'mercy' on _yourself_?"

"As unworthy as I have been for it, yes. If it was too powerful or the dose too high, then I was due to die in any case. No way to change that, so there was no risk in that sense." He shrugged.

Misa shivered, starting to comprehend a little of the horror having _shinigami_ eyes one's whole life would bring. To know without doubt not only _when_ everyone around you would die, but that death itself was inevitable. What would that do to the mind of a child, or a teen? Young people were notorious for their belief that they would live forever, but for Beyond it would have been just the opposite. He knew death awaited him, that escape was impossible. Every person he met or saw on the street, on TV, in magazines, would be a reminder that the Reaper was but the weight of a breath away.

No wonder his laugh was always held tightly on a leash.

She took another small sip from the wine bottle, the alcohol burning down her throat and settling in her belly, where it warmed her like glowing embers. She offered the bottle to B, who took it after a moment's pause, taking a conservative swig.

Misa's wandering mind caught up on another question she'd yet to resolve, and it popped out before she could decide whether it was wise to ask. "Why were you in that alley beside Ichigo Station? What had happened to you?"

Beyond smiled, and she thought she could see humor in this one. "Funnily enough, I was looking for a way to get near Kira. I knew of you, of course, and thought a circuitous route might be the best way to get to you. Either a position at a rival station or just disguised as one, it would be easier to get close to you and make contact at an appropriate time. However, during my skulking I was unfortunate enough to run across an unfriendly acquaintance." Beyond shifted, titling the wine bottle so the red liquid sloshed. "It was just blind luck you happened to be there at the time."

Misa wondered if it was true, if anything so preposterously coincidental could possibly be true. But then, she had to admit that her life had become crowded with such coincidences. One more should hardly surprise her.

The wine came back to her, then back to Beyond, both of them only taking tiny sips, sharing the twin comforts of silence and shadows. Misa felt herself warm from the inside out, her limbs growing heavy more from fatigue finally winning over adrenaline than from wine. She wondered if she would dare to sleep tonight.

"You said you were born with your eyes that way?" she found herself asking. The words were surprisingly clear, though the thoughts guiding them were not. "I just got mine. I think that's why I can't understand the lifespans, even though I can see them."

She felt rather than saw the way B twitched, how his body tensed. "What?"

"I lost them for a while," she said, ignoring the question. "And then I got them back again."

"How… _where_ did you get them?" B asked, sounding incredulous. Perhaps he thought it was the wine doing the talking for her, spouting meaningless nonsense.

Whatever he thought, she still had control over her vocal cords. "Ah-ah," she held up a heavy finger. "Can't tell you everything, now. A girl must keep some secrets; maintain an air of mystery and allure." She meant it jokingly, self-mockingly, but B sounded fervent when he replied.

"You _are_ a mystery to me," he said. Then he stopped abruptly, and Misa suddenly became aware of a tension, a kind of buzzing between them, and it occurred to her that it had been there, building slowly, for some time. She just hadn't paid it any attention. Her heart stuttered and sped, she wondered how she could have overlooked it before.

She jumped when cool fingertips touched her flushed cheek, didn't resist when they turned her so she was looking into the shadowed face of Beyond Birthday. His scars really weren't horrible, she thought to herself, and in the dark they were hardly visible at all. "And however you got them," he said, his voice a low, quiet intensity in the dark, "your eyes are beautiful."

Beyond's face drew nearer, and for a moment Misa forgot how to breathe. The warmth of Beyond's hand, the deep, deep red of his eyes that pierced her and yet absorbed her all at once, it was so unreal, yet undeniably reality that faced her. She could scarce believe it was happening.

And then he stopped. When he was so close she could feel his breath fluttering over her cheeks, against her mouth, Beyond paused, the fingers at her cheek relaxing, his eyes watching her. Waiting.

Misa almost cursed him when she realized what he was doing. He was making it her choice. On its own it was gentlemanly, but it conferred responsibility. Whatever resulted, she could not wholly blame him. Not if she was the one to close the final gap between them. She was drunk, but not _so_ drunk that she couldn't recognize the danger she stood, tottering, on the edge of. He knew she wasn't so very drunk, and she felt even less so now than she had a few minutes before. Here was danger, embodied in him, in his bloody eyes that reflected death, in his face, in the half mask of demonic passions. He was danger, the unknown, musky and heady in his scent.

She _wanted_ it.

A part of her tried to remember all of the reasons she shouldn't, all of the restrictive 'whys' that put this new craving so firmly out of bounds. She reminded herself of her duties as Kira, the delicate game she played, the sacrifices she'd already made, her dedication to Light… It all crumbled away like chalk under Beyond Birthday's garnet stare, the feel of his breath against her lips. She closed that final gap, knowing that it was her choice.

Beyond's kiss was like honey, sweet and smooth and filled her wine-warmed blood with the buzzing of a thousand bees.

Fingers stroked over her cheeks, brushing back strands of hair that were still heavy and damp from her shower, trailed down to her throat, and made her aware of the wild beating of her pulse when they passed over. Misa hesitated, unsure, and then brushed her fingers over B's face. Her left hand felt smooth, soft, warm flesh, while her right met a crazed jigsaw of warped and rigid skin. But it was warm, softer than she had imagined, and at her touch B tilted his head into her palm. He _could_ feel her.

When they broke apart, Misa sucked in a breath, but tugged at Beyond, demanding more of him. "Beyond…"

It was all the encouragement he needed; possibly he was waiting for it.

He closed the distance the second time, his teeth scraping over her lips as he did, making her catch her breath, her fingers tightening where she'd buried them in his hair. It made her pulse quicken even more, made her _ache_. She parted her lips, bit at Beyond's mouth. His response was just as positive as her own; he made an odd sound, something between a grunt and a groan, and began to press her back and down to the kitchen floor, following her down as he did.

She pushed him back before her spine came to the floor, broke off the furious kiss. "Bedroom," she managed, her voice grown husky and strange in need. "Bedroom, now." _Before I come to my senses._

Beyond, his face having clouded at the apparent rejection, didn't hesitate at the command. He rolled himself up to his feet, pulling her up with him with dizzying speed, and then took her by surprise by lifting her off her feet as though she weighed nothing. "Whatever you want, angel of mercy," he rasped, and strode, with her in his arms, to the bedroom.

Misa smiled at the name and thought, as she was laid down on her bed, of how he was such a strange combination of the harsh and the gentle, the terrible and the noble, and how amazing the contrast made the whole.

_My gentle killer, _she thought with a smile, and lost herself to the night and personal darkness.

…

_**A/N2:**__ I did mention that things would be getting dark, didn't I? I'm actually a little embarrassed over the end of this chapter… I have no idea why, either. I've done much more explicit scenes, so I'm baffled on that one. Maybe because it wasn't specifically requested…_

_Wakahisa Masahiro:__ As always, I pick background character names based on their meaning. Because that's how I roll. In this case, 'Wakahisa' means 'forever young' – which the poor boy will be, now – and 'Masahiro' means 'justice prospers'. A particularly fitting name for someone in the __Death Note__ world, wouldn't you say?_

_Bento boxes:__ To quote Wikipedia: "A traditional bento consists of rice, fish or meat, and one or more pickled or cooked vegetables." Yummy!_

_Onigiri:__ An _onigiri_ is a rice ball. But because I like my foreign words, I'm calling them _onigiri_. :)_

_Mercy:__ Okay, this one is a semi-head canon. Beyond Birthday did indeed drug his victims, but we are never told with what or what all the effects of the drugging had on them. In past fics and in RP sessions I've fleshed out the idea a little bit, making it so BB made his own drugs for the purpose. One of them has been termed mercy, and yes, all the effects it has are mentioned here. Yay, chemistry!_

_Kanji:__ According to the internet (always a trustworthy source, yes?) there are up to 50,000 kanji. However, no one is expected to actually __**learn**__ that many. By the end of the ninth grade, Japanese students are expected to have learned the __joyo kanji__ list, which has 2,136 characters and is – supposedly – a level of fluency required to read newspapers or literature. Though I seem to recall reading somewhere that one could get by with about 1,000. Provided they were the right 1,000, of course. I have it in mind that Beyond has about 3,000 memorized._

_Sakura / Sakuranbo:__ It's been pointed out that in Part I when I said that 'sakura' meant 'cherry blossom' I was in error. Apparently 'sakura' means 'cherry' as in the fruit, while 'sakuranbo' is the cherry blossom. Once again I stick my foot in my mouth by trying to be fancy, but my readers are nice enough to point it out without making my feel like a doof. Thank you, Aoharu, for that correction. :)_

_**As always, thank you everyone for your patience and sticking with the story! I'm actually quite surprised how many of you there are for this one, and hope you've enjoyed the new chapter. I shall see you all again once the next has been churned out! **_


End file.
